A Brother's Love
by silverwolf3432
Summary: Still reeling from the recent death of their father, Dean has become more reckless and impulsive. When Sam tries to help, Dean pushes his younger brother away. However when Dean's past catches up to him and Sam's life hangs in the balance, can Dean put the past to rest and save his little brother before it's too late. Hurt!Sam and Guilty!Protective!Dean
1. Chapter 1: Taken

Hey everyone. So this is basically my first Fanfiction so I hope you all enjoy it! There'll be plenty of hurt and tortured Sam and angsty, protective Dean cause lets be honest, who doesn't love that!

AN: Takes place at the start of season 2, after the first Gordon Walker encounter with both brothers still reeling from John's death.

Well let the story commence!

Chapter 1: Taken

"Dean please," Sam yelped chasing after his fuming brother.

The elder Winchester had been a mess for a while now. Since John's death, Dean had almost completely pushed Sam out, preferring to wallow in his own misery then allow the younger to bare some of the weight and it was affecting them both. It was affecting their bond and their partnership but most of all, affecting the elder's judgment as shown by the way Dean had blindly followed and bonded with Gordon despite his brother's well intentioned warnings.

"Dean I know your hurting and I get it. Hell don't you think I miss Dad too! But you just can't do this Dean. You can't act like you're all right when your not. You can't just keep striking out at everything. Can't you see it's affecting us both? You need to let someone in."

"And why should I Sam?" Dean snarled spinning around to face his younger brother. "Why should I stand here and talk to you about this? Do you even remember a time when you and dad weren't fighting? Hell Sam the last time you saw the man you still tried to pick a fight with him and yet you want to sit here and cry about how much we both care! You never tried to understand him. You never just did what Dad said; you had to fight tooth and nail every time. Maybe that's why me and Dad were just better off after you left to Stanford!"

Sam reeled back at the end of Dean's speech, as if the words had physically hurt him.

"You don't mean that," Sam whimpered weakly, none of the usually conviction in his voice. "You're just upset and I understand."

Dean laughed cruelly. "Look into my eyes Sam. Does it look like I'm joking? Just..Just leave me alone for a while would you." At this the elder Winchester spun around turning away from Sam and towards the Impala.

"Dean," Sam yelped out again reaching his hand out to grip Dean's arm.

At this a blinding rage overtook Dean and he turned, fist striking fast, and clipped his younger brother across the face with such violent force that Sam lost his footing and slammed into the floor hard. Big doe eyes looked up at Dean, pleading with him silently, still trying to get the elder to listening to reason.

"Just leave me alone," Dean barked, tears glistening in his eyes, as he walked away from Sam and climbed into the Impala. Dean didn't look back as he gunned the engine, leaving his stunned little brother on the floor.

Sam sighed and hefted himself up off the dirt. The brothers had been on a regular salt and burn right after the whole Gordon Walker incident and their father had come up again. Dean still refused to let Sam in and was getting more and more reckless, to which Sam had finally had enough. This of course led to the glorious fight the two brothers had just had and a good ten miles of walking along the wooded road back into town for Sam.

The youngest Winchester sighed. He knew Dean didn't really mean everything he had said, but a part of him truly wondered if perhaps Dean and his father had been better off without him there to screw everything up. It was no secret that Sam had never gotten along with his father. To be honest it had often seemed to Sam that he was simply a third wheel, constantly messing up the natural hunting dynamic Dean and his father shared.

Deciding it was better to push these negative thoughts from his forefront, Sam allowed himself to drift off into simpler thoughts as he walked, finding the mostly silent night relaxing as he allowed himself to let go of all his current problems.

About a half hour into his walk to the most recent dingy hotel that the Winchester's called home however, the sounds of a car peeling down the street roused the youngest from his thoughts.

As Sam turned around a big black pick up truck peeled into view at top speed and Sam could see three men joking jovially in the front. Sam turned back and continued walking expecting the car to pass him and move on. The pick up however slowed as it approached him and Sam could see the three men entirely focused on him before it passed and continued down the road.

Sam let out a breath he was unaware he'd been holding, yet his stomach continued to churn in uneasy. A few seconds more proved his instincts correct.

The pick-up suddenly veered, tires squealing as it spun 180 degrees effectively blocking Sam from his route. The headlights were then turned on, blinding the younger Winchester's view of the vehicle. Moments later Sam heard the revving of the engine as the car barreled right at him.

Without giving it another thought, Sam turned and ran as fast as he could in the other direction, the purr of the cars engine and shouts of the men the only thing the hunter could make out in his adrenaline induced rush.

"Drive faster! That's a damn Winchester. Don't let that boy get away!"

Sam's heart pounded faster in his chest as he realized just how much trouble he was in. Clearly they knew who he was and were beyond pissed, never a good combination. Yet Sam was sure that he'd never seen these men before, so what they could possibly want was beyond him.

Sam pulled his phone out and speed dialed Dean praying that the eldest would answer. After the first ring however, the call dropped and Sam knew Dean had purposely hung up.

"Dammit Dean. Now is not the time for this!" Sam swore as he tried again and got the same result.

The pick up was now only a few feet away from him and Sam forced his panicking body to obey him, waiting as long as he could for the car to get close. As soon as it was close enough to touch, Sam threw his body off the road and into the grass at its side, tumbling before pulling himself up. He hoped be able to reach the tree line in the time it took the truck to spin around and come at him again, but luck was not on the younger brother's side.

"He's getting away!" One of the men yelled but Sam barely heard over the squeal of the wheels as the car was kicked into reverse.

Sam forced his body forward as fast as he could manage; the sound of gunshots exploding threw the night urging him forward.

In a last ditch effort, Sam once again tried Dean's cell phone but all coherent thoughts were thrown from his mind at the white-hot pain which exploded from his left leg. Sam screamed out in pain as the bullet pierced his flesh, the phone tumbling from his hand when he collapsed onto the cold earth. He tried to force his straining body up off the ground but as soon as he put weight on his bad leg the pain increased tenfold and he fell once more, the wind effectively knocked out off him. Sam could hear the sounds of boots as the men raced out to where he lay helpless in the dirt.

Suddenly his phone connected.

"This better be good Sam," Dean's angry voice came through the small device.

Hope surged through him as the youngest Winchester tried to pull oxygen back into his lungs and crawl to the phone laying only a few feet away from him. However it was too late. One of the three men jumped onto Sam's back and Sam could hear the sound of duck tape being unrolled and mashed over his lips before he had the chance to call out to his elder brother. Sam's hazy mind urgently tried to get himself out from under the bulky man pinning him to the floor but a second man had already arrived. He dug his fingers into the wound on Sam's leg causing black dots to seep into his vision; his cry of pain muffled by the tape.

"Sam. Sam! What the hell man. If your gonna interrupt me you better have something damn important to say!"

Sam tried to scream out but it was no use. His struggles also proved useless and only served to exhaust him as he fought against the two men. Finally all the strength left Sam as he lay on the ground; head still spinning as the two men securely bound his hands and feet behind his back. He could barely make out the shape of the third man walking calmly in front of him before he picked up Sam's phone and snapped it shut, effectively cutting off Sam's connection with his only chance of escape.

The third man chuckled and walked over to Sam bending down and forcing him to look up at him as he roughly held his jaw in a bruising grip.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't little Sammy Winchester. A pleasure to finally meet you. That was Dean you were calling I assume, its been a while since I've seen him. Not since he ruined my life of course," the man growled dangerously.

"Well don't you worry there Sammy boy I'll be calling Dean again real soon, you see we've got a little bone to pick with your family. Your daddy and big brother ruined everything and now it looks like we finally get to exact some sweet vengeance." The man grinned maliciously as he carded his hand threw Sam's long hair and Sam began to fully realize the extent of this mans madness.

Sam grunted and attempted to pull away only to have his head jerked back in his attackers direction.

"We just can't have Dean on our tail until we're ready for him. You understand right?"

Sam's fierce profanities were muffled behind the gag and the bigger man laughed standing up and raising the butt of his large riffle over Sam's head.

"Nothing personal of course," he added, sadistic eyes looking down at Sam like a predator at its prey.

Then he slammed the butt of the gun into Sam's head and the younger Winchester knew no more.

* * *

And that's chapter one! Hope you've enjoyed it so far. This story is definitely going to be multiple chapters but I'm not quite sure how many just yet. The real action begins after this. Poor Sammy's really in for a world of hurt.

Please review and tell me what you think. I'd love to hear from you all.


	2. Chapter 2: The Beginning

Welcome to chapter two! Thanks so much for the positive reviews and feedback especially from my first reviewer EVER doyleshuny! I'm glad to see that you guys are enjoying the story so far. Your feedback inspired me to finish this chapter and get it up quickly for you guys. I hope you enjoy chapter two and remember to tell me what you think!

AN: Characters aren't mine.

Chapter 2: The Beginning

Dean Winchester finally managed to open his eyes around noon the next day. The eldest Winchester chuckled to himself, "What a hell of a night!"

He allowed himself to lapse into the memory of last night. After his 'argument' with Sam, the seasoned hunter had found himself racked with guilt. Sure he'd yelled at the kid when he was only trying to help but Dean had thoroughly convinced himself that Sam had been asking for it. Clearly Dean hadn't wanted to talk about it and Sam, being Sam had refused to let it go and pushed to far. Temper came with being a Winchester after all. Even so Dean knew he'd taken it too far when he'd hit the younger man. The apology would come soon enough and a chick flick moment would surely follow. 'Hurray' Dean thought sarcastically.

He still felt pretty bad about dumping his younger brother in the middle of nowhere but with all the anger he'd been feeling last night, he hadn't quite been able to find it in his heart to turn around and pick Sam up. It would only lead to another conversation Dean didn't want to have. After all Sam could manage the walk on his own.

So instead of picking his brother's sorry ass up from of the side of the road, Dean had opted to stop at a local bar and get drunk out of his mind. He'd ranted to random strangers, conned some men out of a couple hundred dollars, and left the bar around five in the morning with a gorgeous blonde on his arm. Pretty damn successful night if you asked him.

Around ten in the morning he had rolled out of the blonde's bed and driven back to the motel dropping onto the musty bed and falling back to sleep without a second thought. Now that he was up, he was sure Sam would attack him with some brother talk. While it annoyed him to no end, he knew Sam was right. He would just have to suck it, own up to his mistakes and hope his little brother would find it in him to forgive him.

Dean sucked in a breath and pulled himself out of bed, turning towards Sam's bed, expecting to find the youngest Winchester there. However, Sam's bed was in the same pristine condition it had been the day before. Sam's laptop, jacket, and various books laid sprawled about in the same manner his brother had left them yesterday when they'd left for the haunted house.

Dean felt a twinge of unease pass through his body.

"Sammy? You here?" Dean asked cautiously. When he received no response Dean's heart leapt into his throat.

'I'm jumping the gun on this,' Dean thought warily. 'I'm sure Sammy is just fine. Probably went out to get food or something.'

Dean nodded to himself pleased at his conclusion and jumped into the warm shower. He allowed the gentle water washed away his worries and concerns, staying under the heat of the spray for longer then necessary, knowing that there would be no hot water left by the time his younger brother wanted to shower. Dean chuckled. It never got old to hear Sam's startled yelp whenever the warm water of the shower would suddenly turn icy cold.

Dean toweled off and changed into comfortable clothing before walking into the bedroom, expecting again to see his little brother typing away at his computer or reading some book. Dean was once again disappointed however, as the room stood desolately empty, no sign in sight that could indicate his brother had even returned since the last time both brothers had been in the room together.

Once again Dean's brotherly instincts kicked in warning him that something was potentially wrong.

Dean picked up his phone and dialed his brother's number only to receive no answer.

Dean hastily left a message, "Hey Sammy. Look I know I said some things and did some stuff I shouldn't have last and I'm sorry. You have every right to be upset but uh..um well I'm getting worried man. Just give me a call and let me know you're okay."

The eldest Winchester was about to shut off his phone when something caught his attention. Last night he'd receive three missed calls from Sammy and answered one. Dean tried for the life of him to remember what his brother had told him but he kept drawing blanks. Whatever it was, it couldn't have been too important right? He'd remember if it had been.

The elder Winchester decided to give his little brother a couple more hours to make his appearance before he went looking for him. After all Dean was sure Sam was fine. He had to be….Still if Sammy was indeed okay, why couldn't Dean shake the feeling of unease that was welling up inside of him?

* * *

Sam Winchester came to at the feeling of icy cold water being poured over him. The younger of the two Winchester boys jumped with a start in shock, yet a strong force kept him in place.

It took Sam's foggy mind a couple of seconds to remember the night before: Dean. Fighting, Walking. Black Pick-Up. Gun. Three Men. Nothing

'I'm so screwed' Sam thought weakly.

He slowly took in his surroundings, noting with despair that he was in some sort of cellar. A single plain bulb illuminated his dreary surroundings. The cool stone that covered the walls made the air around him all too cold and Sam couldn't help but shiver in his drenched clothing. He had been secured tightly to a chair which had been bolted to the ground. Ropes wrapped around Sam's wrists, ankles, and chest effectively keeping him immobilized. Sam looked around the rest of the room and felt his panic spike once more. The cellar had clearly been built for this very purpose. The wall across from Sam held a variety of different weapons, some of which he recognized and other he'd never seen before. Some of the devices were new while others were coated with old blood. Against the other wall chains hung from the ceiling, a drain positioned under the area in which the person would hang suspended, to drain away the blood. He could also make out what appeared to be an old style furnace in the corner of the room. Sam turned his attention towards finding an exit. Upon finding it however Sam's heart dropped. The huge door looked about as strong as that of a bank vault and Sam knew that even if he was free, there was no way he could get out unless someone opened the door from the outside.

Sam swallowed hard and steeled himself as the third man from the night before pulled into his view.

"Well look who finally decided to join us," the large man jeered. "It's about time Sammy."

"It's Sam," the younger Winchester corrected and was rewarded by a strong punch to the gut, which winded him. As Sam evened out his breathing, the other two men swiftly entered the room and Sam took the moment to appreciate how truly muscled these men were. Even free and uninjured he'd never be able to fight them all off. Sam's heart clenched tightly in despair.

"Now, now Sammy. Watch your tongue. You wouldn't want to test my temper now would you." The words were spat at Sam, vicious and cold.

"Who are you? What do you want from me?" Sam asked, his voice shaking more then he would've like as he struggled against his bonds. His struggles however jarred his injured leg and pain exploded through the ligament.

Sam was rewarded by another hit, this time to the back of the head with such force that the room started spinning. After a couple of seconds when the world finally corrected itself, one of the other two men from the pervious night had come to stand in front of him holding a baseball bat which glistened lightly with blood.

"Speak only when you're spoken to dog," the man holding the bat hissed.

The third man, whom Sam assumed was the leader of the group, chuckled. "Settle down Steven, there will be plenty of time for that later. Right now I need him coherent."

The leader then turned to address him. "Now listen carefully Sammy. I'm really not asking much from you. You see we need to know where Dean is so we can get the drop on him, before he gets the drop on us and you're going to tell us exactly where he is. You think you can do that for me?"

"Go to hell!"

More laughter. "Now that's the wrong answer Sammy. We'll try this one more time and remember you will tell me what I want to know. I can make you talk. It's just a matter of how many pieces you'll be in when you finally tell me. So I'll ask again, where is Dean?"

"I'll never tell you," Sam growled, his brotherly instincts spiking. Sam vowed then and there that he would never give his older brother up. He'd endure whatever these men threw at him and he'd keep Dean safe from harm.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by the fist which connected with his jaw. The metallic taste of blood soon filled his mouth making the young hunter want to gag.

The leader lashed out, patience waning and griping Sam by his shirt, dragging him as far as his bonds would allow. "You little bastard! Where is he?!" the man screamed, his hot breath making Sam choke.

In a move that would make his older brother proud, Sam spit blood onto the larger man's face.

The man pulled back slowly and wiped the blood from his face a malicious glint in his eyes. He motioned behind him, blocking Sam's line of sight as the two other men sprang into action.

"You're gonna regret that." The man whispered venomously and Sam swore he smelt smoke.

"Here why don't we get that nasty bullet out," the man said before he griped his injure leg hard, digging his finger painfully into the bullet wound and seizing the offending piece of metal. The man pulled hard and the bullet came out with a sickening pop. Sam was ripped from the world as his senses blurred around him in pain. By the time the spots had cleared his vision, Sam could openly see the hot coal burning as Steven held a poker into the flames.

The searing pain that exploded into his right hand however, ripped his sight from the flames. Sam bit hard on his bottom lip ad threw his head back to stop from screaming as the unnamed henchmen pushed a red-hot blade through Sam's hand, pinning it to the chair's arm.

Sam's mind cried out at him trying to distance itself from the pain. Through hazy lids Sam could make up Steven handing off the poker to the leader who strode confidently towards Sam. The man brought the poker up near Sam's face; the sheer heat of the metal made Sam's eyes water and he fought to control his body's trembling.

"Tell me where your brother is," the voice demanded from somewhere above him.

"Never," he ground out.

"Then this is only the beginning."

And the poker was pushed down hard into the flesh of his thigh. The smell of burning flesh and a horrible inhuman scream filled the air.

It took Sam a moment to realize that the sound was his own.

* * *

And that's chapter two. Am I a bad person already haha? Well it's only going to get worse for Sam from here on out.

Please review and let me know what you guys think. The more inspirational reviews, the faster I'll get the next chapter up.

-silverwolf3432


	3. Chapter 3: Doubt

Wow I am so happy with all the responses so far! I'd just like to take a moment and thank all the reviewers so much. It means a lot that you stopped to take the time to tell me what you thought. It's because of you that I try to update as quickly as I do.

Anyways I hope you enjoy chapter 3!

AN: Characters aren't mine…except for the characters that are mine of course.

Chapter 3: Doubts

Sam moaned weakly as he regained conciseness. The first thing that registered through his tired mind was the pain. It was a throbbing and all consuming pain that seemed to reverberate throughout his entire body without cease.

Sam struggled flimsily against the chains that now dangled him helplessly from the ceiling. Even at Sam's impressive 6'4, the chains held him high enough that his feet found no purchase on the cold stone floor.

The youngest Winchester tried to push through the drug-induced haze that was his jumbled mind. Slowly but surely, Sam began to remember the last time he had company in the cellar.

After the leader, Marx, as the other two men called him, had pushed the hot poker into the sensitive flesh of Sam's thigh, the younger Winchester had been on the verge of passing out. Marx ordered Sam untied however, and he had been thrown to the floor, jarring the two injuries sustained to his left leg. Being a stubborn Winchester, Sam had tried to take advantage of his freedom and fight his way out. The young man had forced himself to his feet even though the movement almost knocked him out cold, and swung out at Marx hitting the eldest man in the jaw and sending him sprawling to the floor. Running on pure adrenaline and forcing himself to put as little weight as possible on his injured ligament, Sam had spun around, a move which had made the room spin for considerably longer then intended, and aimed a blow towards Steven. The quicker and stronger man had avoided the attack and Sam lost his balance as a result, landing on the floor with a huff.

Just as Sam had gathered enough willpower to make another lunge at the man, the youngest of the three attackers named Jason, grabbed the previously discarded baseball bat and slammed it into Sam's side with bone crushing force. Before he had a chance to react the bat was slammed down again and again. Soon the other two men joined in on the beating, Steven with another bat and Marx with a rusty pipe.

Sam had no idea how long he'd laid there. It could have been minutes or just as easily been hours. Either way to Sam, the beating had seemed endless. His entire body throbbed and his chest constricted painfully every time he breathed. The only relief Sam could find stood in the fact that not once throughout the entire ordeal had he cried out. The youngest Winchester had bit his tongue and refused to show his pain. So as he lay panting and bruised on the hard ground after the men grew tired of bashing their weapons at his pain-ridden body, he allowed himself this small victory.

Sam's muddled mind missed the conversation that had followed between the men but moments later he had found himself being dragged upright and across the room by the two younger kidnappers. Refusing to give in to these men, Sam had once again put up a feeble fight. His strength was almost completely depleted however and all it did was annoy his present company.

Marx had then walked over towards a steel table and produced a syringe filled with a clear liquid. The two men rigidly held Sam up and Marx roughly emptied the needles contents into his bloodstream. The effect was instantaneous. Sam went limp in seconds and no matter how hard he tried the young hunter could not get any of his heavy limbs to function.

The two men then returned to their task. They dragged Sam towards the chains and strung him up from the ceiling with ease. After ensuring that Sam was firmly secured by both the wrist and ankle chains, the men had all left the room leaving the youngest Winchester drugged and in pain.

* * *

Dean's brotherly instincts had been in overdrive for the past couple of hours. The worry in his chest had never died down and it had driven Dean as close to insane as any sane person could get. As much as he hated to admit it, something was defiantly wrong. Sam wasn't one to pull this disappearing crap and if he did the kid at least had the sense to leave a note or something to tell Dean not to worry. He'd at least answer his damn phone!

After a good thirty minute of waiting for Sammy to return, Dean had taken off. He'd scoured the town for his brother, stopping at bars, restaurants, and anywhere else he could think of all to get the same result. No Sammy. Not one person had even seen Sam since before the night at the haunted house.

The panicked older brother had now returned to the motel, hoping beyond hope that his little brother was there only to be disappointed once again. He would have given anything to have come back to the room to see the youngest Winchester on his bed, laughing at Dean for being so damn overprotective. Nevertheless this wasn't the case; Winchester luck just didn't hold up like that.

Dean pulled out his phone and tried Sam again to no avail. Sighing he dialed a different number.

"Singer."

"Bobby, hey. I'm sorry for calling so late, but I need help."

"Dean what's going on? What did you do you idgit?"

Dean chuckled humorlessly before taking in a breath. "Bobby its Sammy. I screwed up Bobby…I screwed up real bad, and now I think he's in trouble."

"Tell me everything," the seasoned hunter commanded terror gripping his heart at the genuine despair in Dean's voice. Those boys were like kin to him, he'd be damned if anything happened to either of the two.

Dean recounted everything. The salt and burn, the fight, and leaving Sam alone on the forest path to fend for himself. Dean told Bobby about how he'd brushed off searching for his brother in his anger and had only recently realized the severity of the situation.

By the time Dean had finished, he had dropped onto the bed, head in his hands as complete and total guilt practically drowned him.

"God Bobby. This is all my fault. I was pissed and I just left him there. God dammit I'm supposed to protect that kid and now who knows what's happening to him! He was my responsibility. I should of…"

"Dean enough." Bobby interrupted, "This isn't helping Sam. Where are you right now?"

Dean relayed the information for the small hotel and Bobby promised to be there by tomorrow morning. Until then the hunter had ordered Dean to sleep in order to stay sharp. The thought of sleeping in a semi-comfortable bed while his brother suffered some unknown fate made him sick and Dean knew he wouldn't be getting much sleep regardless.

"Dean, we'll get him back. That boy's strong. You know that."

"Yah I know Bobby. It's just if anything happens to him, I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive myself."

A sigh.

"Get some rest Dean. I'll be there by the time you wake up."

Dean nodded to himself weakly and hung up. Looking around the room, he was once again struck by the emptiness of the space. Sudden rage engulfed the hunter.

"Dammit it!" Dean yelled and threw over the small hotel table before turning his rampage on the rest of the room. His rush of anger left him soon and helplessness over took him. He dropped weakly to the floor, his mind a swirl of emotions that he rarely showed.

The elder Winchester had never felt so completely useless. Had never felt so lost. Was he really that bad of an older brother that he couldn't even manage to keep the youngest Winchester safe?

"God Sammy, where the hell are you?"

* * *

The sound of footsteps roused Sam from his drug induced sleep.

Sam heard the tumblers of the safe door open before Marx entered the room, smiling like a Cheshire cat.

"Well hey there Sammy. Had a change of heart yet?"

"Screw you, " Sam spat back, "and it's Sam."

Marx chuckled. "It's whatever I want it to be. I don't know if you've noticed but you're currently my little bitch," he spat. "Nothing but a dog with information I need."

Sam simply glowered at the man in response. He forced himself to put up a strong front but he was sure he didn't look it. His upper body was straining under the pressure to support his weight and he looked like hell after his beating. Moreover, he was now sure that at least one of his ribs was cracked or broken, and the additional hits to his left leg had rendered it numb. Sam was sure that putting weight on the limb would be impossible.

Marx walked up to him and gripped the collar of his shirt, swinging Sam forward until they were face to face.

"Now what I don't understand is why you don't just tell me what I want to know. I mean everything will just be so much easier on you. I don't grasp what you're holding out for." A thoughtful pause, "Is it Dean? Are you naïve enough to think that your brother is out there looking for you?"

This caught Sam's attention. "What are you talking about?" he murmured no longer as sure of himself.

Marx laughed again. "Come on Sammy boy! I think we both know why you were alone in the woods last night. Dean is damn sick of you! We're probably doing him a favor right now. I mean honestly, Dean Winchester is the best there is, don't you think he'd have found you by now if he was really trying."

Sam shook his head weakly, the simple act making his head spin. "No you're wrong. Dean wouldn't do that! You're lying." Sam growled out.

"Am I? Then where is big brother? Why didn't he come to save you? Surely by now he knows that you're in trouble? Face it Sammy. He's not coming to rescue you. No one is coming to save you."

The words hit Sam hard, his resolve crumbling slowly as doubt began to creep in.

No! The younger Winchester refused to believe this man. Dean would never leave him. They're brothers. Sure Dean had been mad, but a brother's love surpassed such petty issues. Just as Sam would willingly give up his life for his brother, Dean would do the same and Sam hated himself for thinking otherwise.

"I will never tell you what you want to know you bastard," Sam spat, "so how about you just go to hell you sick sonovabitch."

Marx only chuckled. It was the laugh of a madman. One who was truly deranged and Sam cursed himself for not keeping his mouth shut.

"I try to be nice and this is what I get. Well it looks like you need another lesson then." Marx warned before throwing his arm back and slamming it into Sam's shoulder. Sam cried out as he felt the familiar pop of his shoulder being dislocated. The strain of hanging on the chains immediately became ten times worse and Sam whimpered trying to control the pain.

Marx walked over to the wall of weapons and pulled out a hunting knife. Sam tried to flinch back but in his current predicament was unable to and only managed to strain his shoulder further. Marx however simply grabbed at Sam's shirt and cut the material off with the blade before turning over his shoulder and calling for Steven.

When the man walked in, Marx motioned towards his left. "It's you're turn." He barked.

Steven's eyes instantly lit up in excitement and Sam had to resist the urge to shutter. The man scuffled off to the left and returned holding a cat o' nine tails. Sam blanched at the sight of the impressive whip and Marx laughed once again.

"Just don't kill him."

"No promises." Steven laughed out to which Marx answered with a chuckle.

"Wait. Give me a second," Marx demanded turning back from the vault door. He walked towards the steel table and returned with a role of tape. Sam tried to fight against the man but was easily restrained by Marx's rough hand and the tape was once again smoothed over his lips.

"Can't have you screaming all night. There's a game on." The man smiled and patted Sam roughly on the face before turning and walking out.

"Have fun," he called out over his shoulder towards Steven. The other man made no sign of acknowledgement instead he simply walked around the suspended boy.

Steven purred happily behind him and ran his hand down Sam's exposed back. The youngest Winchester trembled in fear at the touch and Steven chuckled.

"Hey, hey its okay. There's no need for that. I can promise you that I'm going to have a lot of fun tonight."

Fear coursed through Sam's body but he forced his mind to steel itself. As soon as the first hit made contact with his lower back however all imaginary strength flew out the window. His back arched uncontrollably and he could do nothing but sob as the hits continued to rain down on his body.

The only thing keeping the young man stable was the thought that somewhere out there his older brother had to be looking for him.

"_Dean please. I need you._"

* * *

Woo. Well there you have it, chapter 3. Clearly things aren't going any easier for Sammy and it's not likely to happen any time soon. No need to worry though, Dean and Bobby are on the case which means Sam will be saved soon…right?

Well looks like you'll just have to wait and see!

As always please review! Reviews keep me going and bring new chapters sooner. Also I genuinely like to know what you guys think! Until next time.

-silverwolf3432


	4. Chapter 4: The Call

Hey everybody, I'm back! Thanks so much to all my wondrous reviewers as always. You guys make the world go round. Glad to hear your liking the story so far. I hope you continue to enjoy it so without further ado here's Chapter 4.

AN: Characters are not mine, except for those characters that are mine.

Chapter 4: The Call

"Dammit Bobby it's been four days!"

"I'm well aware you idgit. I know how time works."

Dean paced the cluttered hotel room back and forth like a caged lion. Four days. Four whole godforsaken days since Sammy went missing and still nothing. That was too damn long a time to lose your little brother.

Dean had searched tirelessly for the past two days since Bobby had arrived and still found absolutely nothing. Dean had scoured the town again and again. He'd traveled the entire length of road his little brother had taken on the night he'd disappeared and found nothing but one empty round. No car tracks. No footprints. Nothing. Just one regular empty shell that provided no useful information whatsoever and it drove Dean up the wall. Bobby had spent his precious time calling up every contact he knew and the contacts his contacts knew and still nothing. No one had heard anything about Sam Winchesters whereabouts. No one had anything helpful to say. Hell the roadhouse was on high alert and yet every time Dean called back itching for a lead, for anything really, Ellen had nothing new to add.

Sam had just up and disappeared and it seemed that not one person on the entire freaking planet had any conclusive information that could help get him back. Which basically meant that Dean was just about ready to tear the whole damn world apart to find his little brother.

He was reaching new levels of desperate. More importantly the elder Winchester was getting seriously pissed at the bastards that thought they could mess with his little brother and get away with it. After all, hell hath no fury like in Winchester scorned.

He would find his little brother and so help him if those imbeciles had even considered hurting his Sammy they were in for a hell worse then Dante himself could've ever imagined. No one messes with a Winchester and gets away with it.

For now however all Dean could do was wait and it killed him. Having had enough of pacing the same room, the eldest Winchester grabbed the Impala's keys and ventured back into town looking for anything he might have missed.

* * *

Marx entered the cellar more cheery and giddy then he'd been in a while. And what reason had he not to be? Everything was going exactly as he wanted it. Well…not exactly. The damn kid still refused to give up his brother's whereabouts but no matter. He'd find out soon enough. And even if he didn't he could always just call Dean! Sure the element of surprise would be gone but one glance at the pitiful condition his younger brother was in would throw the man off guard, making him easy pickings. And once Dean was subdued, Marx would gut his little brother right then and there before putting a bullet in the other man's head. So all in all, Marx was a very happy man.

"Up and at 'em," Marx singsonged as he strolled towards his limp captive.

The youngest Winchester pulled his head up, trying pathetically to follow Marx with his eyes. The simple act tired the young man out in seconds however and he dropped his head back down against his chest in exhaustion.

Marx chuckled and admired the work his sons had done on the young hunter earlier.

The boy was slick in his own blood. Various cuts marred Sam's skin. The more shallow cuts had already clotted, but the deeper ones continued to spill the life giving liquid. Sluggish drops made there way to the floor, contributing to the ever-growing puddle under his feet.

Marx smiled, pride filling him to the core. It was a work of art. The different knives required to make such varied cuts as these. The precision in which each cut was made, no signs of hesitation whatsoever. Marx could only imagine how much pain had been inflicted on the younger man and his son had still missed all the major arteries.

Marx almost burst out in laughter at what he saw next. Around the captive's throat, several coils of barbed wire were wrapped into what appeared to be a makeshift collar. An actual dog tag hung from the wire in the shape of a pink bone, the word 'Bitch' scrawled across it in silver letters. The whole of the collar was already soaked in the kid's blood as it bit into his neck. Due to the way Sam's head was bowed in exhaustion, the wire was cutting ever deeper into his throat but Marx doubted the kid had much strength to do anything but hang there, much less raise his head from the sharp edges. The collar was clearly the work of Steven's humor and very well done at that. Perhaps the collar had finally put the kid in his place. That or the severe blood loss of course.

Marx walked around him, amused that the boy didn't even try to move from his position. The boy's back was a bloody mess. The cat o' nine tails had torn and ripped through the sensitive flesh, leaving trails of raw and exposed bloody skin.

After he was content with the boy's state, he wheeled around back in front of the youngest Winchester.

"Oh come on Sammy! Don't you have anything to say to me?" Marx laughed as he marched closer to the young man. "What? No biting remarks? No stinging insults? No threats about how big brother is gonna come save you?"

Sam lifted his head slightly. "Go to hell," he whispered, his voice scratchy and rough from overuse.

Marx laughed. "Why Sammy. We're already here!"

Sam dropped his head back down and Marx could feel his anger rising. He roughly grabbed Sam's long locks and forced his head backward. Sam grimaced, the barbed wire surely cutting into the back of his neck now.

"Look at me when I talk to you bitch! I want to see it in your eyes when you realize how screwed you are. I want to see you lose hope when you finally understand that Dean isn't coming. Dean doesn't care. Dean would rather you be dead!"

Marx waited for the hopelessness to shine through his captive's eyes and was taken back when it was defiance that shone through instead.

And then his captive spit in his face.

Marx lost it.

He dropped Sam's head and aimed a powerful punch at his jaw. Turning back towards the table, he gripped a small hunting knife and spun heading towards Sam in a rage. Before Sam could even realize what was about to occur, Marx had already plunged the blade into the younger man's lower stomach until the hilt touched flesh. Sam whimpered weakly unable to make any other sound and slumped down, allowing the blackness to consume him.

Once he saw that Sam had lost consciences, Marx backed away choosing to leave the blade deeply buried in the young hunter's side.

Satisfied with himself, Marx turned and left the cellar, locking the huge modified vault door of the house's old meat freezer as he exited. He made his way through the rest of the hallways and cluttered rooms which made up the house's basement before finally ascending and entering the main building.

As he entered the 'living area' of the abandoned house they currently inhabited, Marx saw his two boys drinking beer together and flicking casually through the channels on the small TV in the large living room.

Steven looked up at him as he entered. "He still alive?"

"Unfortunately," Marx answered as he walked towards the enermous kitchen and pulled out a beer as well. "Well unfortunately for him anyways."

This elicited laughter from the group.

"He still hasn't told you were Dean is?" Jason asked curious eyes looking up at his father.

"Nope. I don't think he's going to either. Damn Winchester's have loyalty drilled into them young. It's ridiculous."

A raised eyebrow from Steven, "And that doesn't bother you?"

"Why should it?"

"Well how do you plan on getting to Dean then? On making him suffer like we planned? On avenging Matty?"

Marx's jaw clenched at the name, his eyes turning towards Sam's disconnected phone lying on the table to the side.

"Well, I was thinking it's about time we give our old pal Dean a call."

* * *

Dean was once again in the hotel room. Once again he was pacing. Once again Bobby was making a million calls a minute. Once again they were getting absolutely nowhere and he hated it.

Suddenly a sound broke the silence.

Dean scrambled across the room at unnatural speed at the sound of his cell phone going off.

Hope bubbled up in his chest faster then he could will himself to suppress it in case it was only another let down.

Dean jumped over the first bed toward the phone, picking it up with shaky hands until he finally flipped it over and froze.

There it was. The caller ID read clear as day, Sammy.

Dean nearly cried in relief and picked up the phone, yapping into it in immediately.

"Sammy thank God! I've been worried sick about you! Where the hell have you been?"

There was a beat of silence over the line, followed by a dark, gravelly voice that defiantly did not belong to his little brother.

"Nope, not Sammy. He's a little, shall we say, hung up at the moment. Care to guess again Deano?"

* * *

Bam! Chapter 4 up for your pleasure to behold. So Dean finally gets a lead but will he make good use of it and find Sammy dearest? You'll just have to wait to find outtttt.

And for those of you who have been waiting patiently, Chapter 5 will finally contain the back-story you've all been wondering about. I'm not sure if ill reveal the whole truth just yet but there will definitely be some of it in the next chapter to look forward too.

As always please leave a review and let me know what you think! Do you love it, hate it, or love it so much it makes you want to cry? Rooting for the last one there haha.

Until next time,

-silverwolf3432


	5. Chapter 5: How It All Began

Hey guys. I have returned for another chapter. No Sammy in this chapter though. I know it pains me not to have him in a chapter too but it was necessary to tell the story and also I had to keep you guys hanging for a little longer. Suspense and whatnot. I know, I know I'm a bad person.

Thanks to all my lovely and incredible reviewers. You know I love you all. All your reviews are special to me and I take the time to read each and every single one.

Special thanks to Miuda22's review. Had a little party when I read it. I couldn't believe someone thought it was like the season finale all over again cause honestly I cry every time I watch it again cause just such intense moments. So thank you very much, your review really touched me.

About the question about Sam's phone and why they didn't just track it, Marx had it disconnected so it couldn't be traced.

Anyways, I'm talking too much soooo on with the story.

AN: Character's aren't mine, except for those characters that are.

Chapter 5: How It All Began

October 15, 2002

Dean sighed. He was getting restless. They'd been in the car for hours already and had been driving for two days already. Not even the welcome sounds of Metallica could lift his mood. He was bored and as usual John Winchester wasn't telling him much about why they were currently driving half way across the country.

If Sam was here and not off at Stanford, he would know where they were going by now and why they were going there. Sure it would also mean that Sam and his dad would've gone at it again, and their fights had been getting progressively worse and occurring entirely too often in Dean's opinion, but at least he would have some idea as to what was going on. All he knew was that his dad had gotten a phone call from someone asking for help on a hunt and now here he was being whisked to the other side of the U.S.

Dean missed Sam. He'd never admit it but after only a few weeks of being gone Dean wished more then anything that his stubborn brother would just accept hunting and come back. That wasn't likely to happen though and either way Dean was immensely proud of his little brother for swinging the scholarship. He just wished that it hadn't meant being left behind by his best friend.

Dean brought his attention to his father. His dad sat in the passenger seat mindlessly flipping through his journal, making little notes here and there.

Dean steeled himself. If his little brother could face up to their dad so could he. Dean pulled the Impala off the road and waited until his father's attention was on him.

After a moment John Winchester looked up and arched an eyebrow at his son. "Is there a problem Dean?"

"Uh..no. No sir."

"Then why are we stopped?"

"Its just. I wanted to know what's going on. We never work with other hunters. I wanted to know what changed. Why now?"

John Winchester regarded his son for a moment before answering.

"We're going to Montana," John answered finally. "My old friend Marx called. He and his boys were tracking a werewolf when they realized it was a pack. Four or five of them. He called me, figured he could use a hand with that many and figured I could use a good hunt."

"Werewolves? Why doesn't he wait for the moon cycle to end? Take them when they can't turn."

"Not all wolves need the full moon to shift Dean. There have been cases. Some older werewolves have been known to shift at will. There also appear to be various species so to say. Marx says the murders have been all over the place and haven't been following the moon cycles. He thinks this whole pack can shift at will."

"Oh," Dean murmured.

"Anymore questions or can we get going before someone else gets hurt?"

"No sir." Dean answered before pulling the Impala back onto the road and heading off again.

A couple hours later after checking into a hotel, John and Dean drove into a forest path behind a large black pickup truck.

Four men stood around back passing around beers. The largest of the men turned, a large warm slightly intoxicated smile plastered onto his face.

"John!" he cried out walking over to the eldest Winchester and slapping him on the back. "And Deano how you doing kid!" the big booming voice bellowed.

Dean cringed inwardly at the name. What the hell was a 'Deano"? Certainly not him.

Marx was a large man. Above average height and bulked in muscle weight, he had the look of a man who'd been to hell and back and survived. He must've been around his father age and appeared to be a seasoned hunter by the way he held himself. He had short-cropped black hair and brown/black eyes that gleaned with some dangerous aspect Dean couldn't quite place.

"Marx. It's good to see you old friend. And what of your boys? Word around is that they're top notch hunters."

Marx laughed out. Loud and obnoxious in Dean's opinion.

"That they are. That they are. Come here boys let John get a look at yah."

With that the three boys walked out to join their father from behind the truck.

Marx introduced the three of them with a beaming smile. "This is Steven, Jason, and of course little Matt."

"You mean Matty." The eldest of the three Steven mocked.

"Its Matt." The youngest grumbled.

To say Dean was reminded of Sammy was an understatement. The kid had the same moxie as his younger brother.

Tearing his mind away from his younger brother, Dean studied the three boys. Steven was large and well toned. Clearly he took care of himself and added to his impressive height, which stood at about that of Sammy's, Dean wouldn't be surprised if he took on a rhino and won. He appeared to be older then Dean by a few years. The next boy, Jason, was closer to his age, leaning towards being about 22. Jason was lankier despite his shorter frame in comparison to his elder brother. Both Steven and Jason resembled their father greatly with the exception of the blue eyes that surely came from their mother's side of the family. Matt was much smaller then the rest of his family but was equally fit considering the fact that the boy couldn't have been older the seventeen. Unlike the rest of his family, Matt had dark brown hair and his blue eyes shifted grey more often then they remained blue.

A few beers were passed around as the men reacquainted themselves and Dean talked animatedly with the three younger hunters who seemed nice enough. After a few more minutes however the reunion was abruptly ended and the hunt took precedence.

Marx pulled a map over the hood or the car as the hunters surrounded it.

"Alright, so we're here," he motioned pointing at a spot on the map. "This here cabin is where the pack has holed up. Now I think it's best to split into three groups, take the pack from there sides. Here, here, and here. " He pointed. "Then will give the signal and take them all down."

John nodded. "That should work. Trap 'em and then take the bastards out."

Solemn nods from the rest of the group.

"Okay, so we'll split up. Steven and Jase." Both boys hooted, running around back towards the pick up's armory all the while taunting about who would kill the most wolves.

"Up to partner together like the good old days, John?" The eldest Winchester nodded before turning to Dean.

"Will you two be okay?"

"Yes sir." Dean and his new partner responded at the same time.

"You take care of Matty now son," Marx said shooting a meaningful look at Dean who only nodded as Matt scoffed clearly annoyed. Just his luck to get stuck babysitting during a hunt.

"Of course Dean will take care of him. Been watching his little brother's back since as long as I can remember. Sam's his life." John said with a proud smile before walking away with Marx.

"Is he now?" Marx boomed. "How is that other boy of yours John? I've heard some rumors that he quit the gig."

Dean turned uninterested with hearing his dad ramble on about Sam not hunting. He grabbed his gun and some extra silver bullets before motioning to Matt and setting off in their assigned direction.

Dean stopped off into the woods, not even bothering to make conversation with the kid who clearly wanted nothing to do with him by the way he was practically running ahead.

"I don't need babysitting you know. I'm not five." Matt grumbled from up front.

"I'm sure you don't." Dean answered keeping his eyes ahead, knowing that they were now close to the house. He focused on the hunt instead of the brooding teen ahead of him. So much like Sam it was ridiculous.

"And I especially don't need help from a Winchester." He growled out with venom.

Now this struck a cord with Dean. "I'm sorry, what?" Dean caught up eyes ablaze.

The teen turned, pulled himself to full height and puffed out his chest. "Every hunter knows how dysfunctional the Winchesters are. Sure your dad was a pretty good hunter but lets face it he's messed up. So your mom was killed by some demon, our mom died on a hunt too. My dad didn't go crazy. He dealt with it and moved on. That's why we're better hunters."

Rage burned within Dean's core. "You better shut up if you know what's good for you. No one talks about our mom like that, especially snot nosed brats talking crap about something they know nothing about," he spat.

"Am I now? Cause I think everything I'm saying is spot on. I mean everyone knows your brother ran away from it all. Now the way I see it, he's either not man enough to face the hunting life or he's trying to get away from your messed up family. I'm thinking it's a little bit of both."

Dean lost it. He struck out, slamming his fist hard into the teen's face. "You sonovabitch. Who the hell do you think you are to talk about my brother like that? He's more man then you'll ever be you pathetic brat! And if you ever talk about my family like that again, I'll knock some damn sense it to you."

"My brother's are gonna kill you for that!"

"Yah well I'd like to see them try." Dean snorted.

The kid huffed, anger evident on his face before he turned, heading off in the wrong fucking direction.

"Hey dumbass! That's the wrong way."

"What the hell do you know? It's this way and if you want to get lost in the woods by all means go your way. I don't need your damn help!"

Dean laughed bitter and cold. To think he thought this kid resembled Sammy. He was bitter, cold, and just a plain idiot. The exact opposite of his kind-hearted younger brother.

"Fine! Go get yourself killed! See if I care!"

With that Dean stopped off towards the house, leaving the younger boy alone in the woods.

* * *

Present Day

Dean froze horror flooding his very core.

"Marx," he said weakly. Off to the right Bobby scrambled about, typing quickly on Sam's laptop before grabbing his phone, motioning to Dean and disappearing outside to call his contacts, now that he knew the assailants identity.

"Why I'm honored Deano! You still recognize my voice."

Dean pulled himself back from the past. "Dammit Marx don't do this! You're mad at me and I get that but leave my little brother out of it. He hasn't done you any wrong. Hell he doesn't even know who you are. Please don't let this go too far."

Marx chuckled. "It's already done Dean. This ends and it's ending soon."

Dean cursed. "Listen to me right now. No one hurts my little brother. As soon as I find you I'm going to kill you. I don't care about the past. This is now and I'll be damned if anyone messes with my brother and gets away with it."

Marx laughed again loud and booming and just as obnoxious as Dean remembered. "Oh Dean I'm afraid I just can't take that threat seriously. I mean where we're you when your little brother was crying out for you? When Sammy was screaming your name, begging for you to come save him, calling out as I beat the crap out of him, where the fuck were you?! Stupid sonavabitch was holding out for you. Wouldn't give you up even when it meant that I'd stop hurting him. But guess what? You never came. As we speak, your little brother is slowly dying, alone and in the dark, and it's all your damn fault."

Rage burned through Dean's chest and he cursed out the demented man. "When I find you I swear I'm going to make you wish you never even looked at him wrong you…"

"Shut up, Dean." Marx interrupted cold and harsh. "Enough empty threats. Lets not forget who runs the show here and as such, its time to lay down the rules. You have exactly thirty minutes to come find me and 'save' your pathetic little brother before I go in there and slaughter him like the dog he is."

Dean floundered, fear clenching his chest. "Marx, don't…" he began to plead desperate to save his brother's life, but was cut off.

"You have thirty minutes. Don't be late."

* * *

Dun Dun Dunnnnnnn. Because I'm mean and enjoy cliffhangers hahaa

Well there you have it, part of the back-story from way back when. I decided not to spoil the whole story but I'm sure most of you guys have already figured out why Marx and co are pissed. You'll find out the rest of the story next chapter though.

To avoid confusion the ages for the back-story were… Sam (though he wasn't included): about 19, Dean: about 23, Steven: about 25, Jason: about 22, and Matt: about 17.

I might be off to the keys with a friend tomorrow so I'm not 100% sure how soon the next update will be but you guys know I'm usually pretty good about it so it wont be too bad.

Please review! I love to hear from all my amazing readers!

And Happy Father's Day to all!

Until next time,

-silverwolf3432


	6. Chapter 6: Past Mistakes

Hey everyone! Sorry for the longer then usual wait for the update. I've been pretty busy.

Kind of disappointed with the number of reviews last chapter but hey that's to be excepted when there's no Sammy in a whole chapter haha. For everyone's sanity he is back in this one.

Well on with the story.

AN: Character's aren't mine, except for those characters that are.

Chapter 6:Past Mistakes

Dean heard the familiar click of the dial tone before pulling the phone down limply from his ear. He turned his head to the clock on the hotel wall, 7:30. He had thirty minutes and he could barely think. His mind was screaming abuses at him and it had every right.

His little brother, his Sammy, had been kidnapped and beaten and it was entirely his fault. Marx had been pissed at him, but instead chose to take it out on his innocent brother thus ensuring that Dean would be more deeply affected. He could barely breathe. His body trembled and bile rose to the back of his throat. Sam was hurt, Sam could be killed and it would be his fault. The kid he had sworn to protect, to give his life for, had been screaming his name, begging for help and he hadn't been there. He hadn't been strong enough to protect his reason for living, his most important responsibility.

Perhaps worse then the guilt that Dean felt for Sam's beating being his fault was the choking guilt that the only reason the bastards had been able to take his brother was because he had left him out on that road. If he would've listened to Sam and just talked. Hell if he would've listened to reason and not left his little brother out in the middle of no where on some desolate road in the middle of the night this never would've happened. He should've known better then this! His kid brother was a danger magnet! He couldn't blink without opening his eyes to find Sam about to be shot, jumped, or close to spontaneous combustion. In what world was leaving the kid alone in the woods an even plausible thing to do, no matter how pissed he was at the moment.

Dean absolutely loath himself and worse of all was the fact that his kid brother hadn't given him up. Dean had kicked him to the curb for caring about him. He'd punched the kid in the face and told him that his life had been better when it had just been him and Dad and yet Sam hadn't betrayed him. Instead of giving up his older brother, the youngest Winchester had done everything in his power to protect him and Dean didn't deserve it. Didn't deserve having a little brother like Sammy. Wouldn't have a little brother like Sammy anymore if he didn't get his shit together and haul ass to go find him.

This snapped Dean out of his bout of guilt and self-pity. He'd failed Sam once, he'd be damned if he failed his younger brother again.

He quickly dialed Ellen and explained the situation as concisely as possible. Ellen reassured him that he'd get Ash on it immediately and that she'd have information for him in less then five minutes. Dean thanked her and hung up just as Bobby walked in.

"I just called an old friend of mine, names Patrick, Patrick Jane, man's got sources everywhere. I'm having him check into this Marx man's background, see what he's been up to for the past couple of years."

"I just talked to Ellen. She's having Ash check for a paper trail on him. See if he can figure out where he is now."

Bobby nodded and then frowned as he noticed the subtle shift in the elder Winchester's behaviors, indicating that the young man was panicking.

"There's nothing to do now but wait. Once we have our information we'll take the bastards out," Bobby said but realizing that this only aggravated the elder Winchester more, tried again to extract what worried him so. "Did he say anything else to you Dean?" The seasoned hunter tried and attempted to gauge the young mans response to the question.

Dean turned and Bobby could see the warring emotions in his eyes. "He gave me thirty minutes Bobby. Thirty damn minutes to find Sammy before he…before he." Dean couldn't finish. He didn't dare say the words. Sam would not die. Not like this not ever.

"Dean you couldn't have known this would happen," Bobby attempted to soothe the despondent Winchester. "It's not your fault."

"No Bobby. You don't get to make excuses for me! You don't understand, this is all my fault…"

October 15, 2002

Dean stomped through the woods, clearly pissed. The nerve of that stupid kid. What the actual hell? He was physically in disbelief that someone could actually be that stupid. He hadn't known it was possible.

He pushed his annoyance aside and cleared his thought. He had reached the edge of the woods and the cabin in its vast expanse stood in front of him. As he knew it would be because clearly he was the better, most experienced, and far handsomer hunter. Now the dumb kid was lost in the woods. Serves him right.

Dean crouched down low waiting for the signal. After a couple of moments he saw light flash three times from the right where his father and Marx were stationed. After watching Marx's kids repeat the signal, Dean did the same and then charged the house when he saw the other men do so.

In synchronization, the three groups kicked in the doors at their respective sides of the house. When the doors banged against the wall Dean took in the surroundings of the cabin. It consisted of one large main room and a couple of rooms off to Dean's right. In the large room all men were currently in, there were several sofas, a large TV, a kitchen area off to the side. Lounging around in the room were about eight werewolves. They froze in shock for a moment, all the wolves currently in human form and appearing to be in there early twenties. A second later, their eyes all flashed gold, and by the time Dean had blinked in surprise, huge wolves the size of quarter horses stood in there places. Dean didn't have enough time to react and raise his gun before one of the huge wolves was upon him, pinning him to the floor with its sheer weight, its large jaws snapping inches away from his face. A bullet to the beasts side stunned it long enough for Dean to shove it off him and raise his gun taking a shot to it's heart.

The rest of the night went by in a fast blur. The hunters had severely underestimated the wolves. They were large and powerful, attacking in pack formation and the hunters had to fight tooth and nail to keep them at bay. Finally only two wolves remained faced with the barrels of five different guns. Realizing their predicament, both wolves turned and raced towards the cabin window under heavy fire from the hunters. Suddenly the dark grey wolf yelped out in pain, Dean's bullet having met its mark and taken the beast down. The other wolf, a deep russet color, however used the distraction to take its leave, crashing through window and shattering glass everywhere.

Steven took off after the animal, throwing himself across the room as fast as possible and taking a few shots after the retreating werewolf through the broken window. After a moment he cursed and pulled the gun back inside, reporting that the wolf had gotten away.

The hunters congratulated each other fiercely. The mood was high and excited as it always was after killing some evil sonovabitch, especially as no one had gotten seriously injured other then a few deep scratches and perhaps mild concussions. The cheery spirit ended however as soon as Marx took account of the fact that one of his boys was missing.

"Where is Matt!" the man questioned eyeing Dean fiercely. Immediately the entire room had its attention on him.

Dean stuttered for a second under the intense scrutiny before answering, "He took off. Thought he was too good of a hunter to be paired with me. Started talking some real crap so I let him go his own way."

"You what!" came the enraged bellow. "You left him on his own!"

Dean was about to explain himself when a terrible cry sounded out from the woods behind him. His stomach dropped at the noise and roused the men into action.

They took off into the woods, running as fast as they could, the blood curdling screams rising in volume and intensity until they finally fell silent.

"Matt! Matty, where are you?" Matt's two older brother's screamed out in panic, ignoring all proper hunter instincts and barreling through the woods instead. Jason's cry of horror stopped the hunters in their tracks.

There lying in a pool of blood, lay the young hunter. His chest was torn apart, bloody gashes and bite marks littered his entire frame, coating it with blood. His knee had been torn to shreds, the bone exposed through his flesh. Standing above his body was the russet wolf, mouth and teeth coated with blood as it had just torn out the young hunter's throat in front of their eyes.

Marx howled with anger before taking several shots with his gun. In his rage however he completely missed the snarling beast, and the creature simply turned and leapt of into the woods disappearing into the night.

The three men rushed into action, running towards their fallen family member. Even from this distance however, it was clear the boy was dead. His guts were sprawled across the floor.

"Oh god Dean. What have you done?" his father whispered at his side.

Dean's heart clenched. Sure the kid was an ass but he hadn't deserved this. No one deserved this and it was all his fault.

Steven and Jason were now profusely crying at their little brother's side evidently having realized that the boy was dead beyond a shadow of a doubt. Marx turned, his eyes black and dangerous, and Dean felt a jolt of fear pass through his body.

"You," Marx growled. "My boy is dead because of you!"

John, recognizing the malice in the other man's voice, placed himself protectively in front of his son and tried to appease the other man but Marx would have none of it. Realizing that Marx had decent into a mad craze in only seconds and refusing to have the moment escalate further, John started ushering his stunned teen away from the now dangerous man.

"Dean move now." He commanded. While incredibly disappointed at his son's foolish action, which had cost the life of another, his fatherly nature would not allow his son to be hurt by the angered hunter, especially because Marx's reputation preceded him. The man was capable of being brutal and cruel and in this state was clearly not thinking straight.

With that decision, the elder hunter rushed his son away as quickly as possible wanting to get away from the immediate threat. By this time Marx had stood and grabbed his shotgun and was firing at their retreating forms. Even at the distance they had made in their haste to get away, both hunters could hear Marx's last screaming threat.

"This was all your fault! You did this to him! You left him to die, alone and in the dark, and it's all your damn fault! I'll end you! You hear me! I will make you suffer the way I did! I will kill you if it's the last thing I do!"

* * *

Jason Marx walked into the cellar containing the younger Winchester boy carrying a glass of water.

One look at the kid and Jason knew his father had experienced another fit of anger. The boy's chest was blossoming with new bruises, the knife in his chest had been twisted and the area around was clearly infected. Jason almost pitied the boy. He'd been on the other side of his father's beatings, though his had been by his father's hand and based on the hammer lying in the pool of the boy's blood, Sam's hadn't.

On some level Jason knew this was wrong, but he couldn't find the will to do anything about it. His father would most likely kill him but worse then that his older brother would be disappointed. He refused to allow that to happen. Steven was his role model. If his brother said this was right, that this was the way to avenge his little brother, then so be it.

He walked up closer to the dangling man, trying not to step in the pool of blood that had formed around his limp body, but it was impossible. The pool was simply too large. This was the reason for his father's sudden anxiety to finish this now. He was afraid the youngest Winchester would die before Dean found him and that was unacceptable. His father wanted Sam to die by his hand with his elder brother watching and that meant he had to be kept alive for a while longer.

Jason slapped the limp boy hard in the face and was not at all surprised to receive no reaction. Deciding to try to rouse the boy through his pain reaction, he pulled out his pocketknife and began to reopen Sam's old wounds. The young hunter began to moan in pain and finally large glassy brown eyes opened to meet Jason's blue ones.

"D'n," the boy whimpered pitifully.

"No. He's not coming kid, remember? He left you." Jason repeated. His father was adamant that they break Sam's spirit at every possible chance. While it was clear he was beginning to doubt himself, Sam still clung to his older brother and Jason was sure that the kids belief in him was the only thing that had kept him alive and kicking for so long.

"No..," it was a weak moan. "You-u 're wrr-ong."

Jason sighed. He was here for a reason not to talk. "Drink this." He said pushing the water into the young hunter's face.

"Ho-w do I kno-w i-ts s-afe?"

"It's not," Jason answered bluntly. "It's drugged, but if you don't drink it I'll just drug you anyways and if we're honest with ourselves, you could use the water."

After waiting a moment, he pushed the drugged water back up to the boy's lips and tentatively the young man drank it. Why they were still drugging the kid Jason couldn't understand. The kid was weak as it was yet his father insisted it was necessary as it prevented the kid from fighting back. Jason knew it was just overkill. His father liked to be in complete control.

Eventually Sam grew too weak to swallow and Jason pulled the water back and walked away towards the door leaving bloody footprints in his wake.

Before leaving the room his eyes turned back towards the young Winchester again. He felt some sorrow creep into his cold heart, it wasn't this boy's fault that Matty was dead after all. His only comfort stood in the fact that the young man wouldn't be in pain for much longer.

"It'll all be over soon," he promised before locking the door behind him.

* * *

And that's chapter 6. Not to worry chapter 7 will have Dean's long awaited arrival I just needed to set some stuff up.

Also if you watch the Mentalist (which clearly I do) you know that Patrick Jane is the main character…ya sorry couldn't think of another name for that character. Not sure why but you know what why not right?

Any who please review! Make my day!

And lastly GO MIAMI HEAT!

Until next time,

-silverwolf3432


	7. Chapter 7: Lost and Found

Wooo so the Heat won! That sure made me happy! Sorry to any Spurs fans reading this but Heat all the way haha.

Sorry for the late update. I really wanted to get this chapter up sooner, especially for you WittyKitty but I didn't want to rush it as it's important to the plot. I personally think it turned out to be a better chapter due to the wait sooo enjoy!

AN: Character's aren't mine, except for those characters that are.

Chapter 7: Lost and Found

Dean paced erratically throughout the cramped motel room like a caged animal. Normally, Bobby would have threatened to tie the elder Winchester down in order prevent the man from burning a hole through the carpet with the constant back and forth. This was not a normal circumstance however, so Bobby bit his tongue and let the boy pace. Dean had a right to be worried after all. Five minutes had already passed in their thirty minute deadline. Now they were left with only twenty-five more to find the youngest Winchester before Marx got to him. Before he was killed in cold blood.

Finally after what felt like an eternity Dean's phone went off.

"Ellen please tell me you have something." Dean barked into the receiver already motioning to Bobby to grab his things and head for the Impala.

"Ash found something. There's an old mansion a few miles out. It's real secluded, out in the backcountry. The place was paid in cash and the description of the renter sounds like it's a match for Marx. Plus the name the renter gave is a fake."

Dean nodded. "Sounds like the type of place he'd get. Got an address?"

As Ellen relayed the information, Dean waited for Bobby to get into the car and then gunned the Impala in the direction of the abandoned house. Once she was done, Ellen hesitated for a moment.

"What is it Ellen?" Dean asked concerned.

"Dean the house is at least forty minutes away..."

"Don't worry. Ill get there in time," Dean answer automatically.

"Okay...I know you can do it...You get him back Dean, you hear. Bring that boy home." Ellen demanded, voice thick with emotion.

"I will," Dean promised before ending the call and flooring the gas.

For a while they drove on in silence. Bobby sensed that the elder Winchester was in no mood to talk and wouldn't be until Sam was out of harms way.

Truth be told he was extremely worried. From what little he knew of this Marx character he seemed to be a dangerous man. Why John had even taken Dean with him on that hunt all those years ago was beyond him. Now Dean carried extra unnecessary guilt and had a dangerous new enemy. Though he doubted this enemy would survive to see tomorrow for after having taken Sam.

Pulled from his thoughts by the sound of his phone, Bobby checked the caller id.

"Its Patrick," he motioned to Dean before placing the phone on speaker.

"What did you find out Patrick?"

"All business I see. Very well. I did a lot of digging on this Marx man and he has been on the move. He's got various aliases and has been traveling all over the place spending huge amounts of money. I've tracked through his records, or at least his aliases' records; there are plane tickets, train rides, and gas receipts crisscrossing the whole country."

"What's he been spending his money on?" Bobby asked cautiously shooting Dean a worried look.

There was a pause before Patrick answered. "You're not going to like it Bobby. It's all weapons, torture devices, and the likes. Man's been planning this for a while."

Dean cursed. "Any sign that he was working with anyone?"

"No nothing I could find. I cross referenced all the passengers and there was no overlap. From what I've found it looks like he's working alone."

"Well maybe something is finally going our way then. Thanks again Patrick."

"You got it Bobby. Take care of yourself will ya."

"I always do." He answered before ending the call. Glancing at the time he turned to Dean.

"Drive faster boy."

* * *

Dean pulled into the driveway of the abandoned home about twenty minutes later parking the Impala in full view.

"Inconspicuous much?" Bobby grumbled.

"Yah because they're not expecting us," Dean huffed out before turning to get out of the car. Bobby stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"Dean please don't do anything stupid. You're no good to your brother dead."

The eldest Winchester slowed a moment. "I know Bobby. I know what's at stake here. Now let's go there's no time to waste."

The elder hunter nodded and both got their weapons out from the trunk before walking towards the house. A quick perimeter check of the building showed no sign that anyone had been in the house of late. Doubt crept into Dean's mind. If they were in the wrong place they'd never get to Sammy in time. He had to be here.

Signaling to Bobby, both hunters entered the house. Making quick work of the ground floor, neither hunter ran into any trouble.

"Something's wrong here Dean."

"I know. I feel it to."

Bobby nodded towards the last closed-door down the hall. "Basement?"

Dean nodded and both hunters made their way towards the door. Guns raised, they carefully descended into the basement and came across a huge vault door. Signaling again, Bobby went to work attempting to open the door. Finally it opened with a creak and both hunters stepped inside the room. The area was far more expansive than either hunter would've imagined. The room was full of various weapons and torture devices. Dean's attention was instantly caught however by the limp figure chained to the ceiling.

"Oh God, Sammy" Dean whispered breathlessly before rushing to his wounded brother's side.

"Dean," Bobby urged quietly. Something wasn't right and both hunters knew it. This was entirely too easy. It was most likely a trap and Dean knew it but he couldn't bring himself to care at the moment. His little brother needed him.

As soon as he was close to his dangling brother, Dean could see the full extent of the damage. Sam was covered from head to toe in bruises and cuts. There was no place visible that had managed to remain unscathed. His wrist and ankles were raw from Sammy's struggles to escape the tight shackles and Dean felt his emotion bubbling to the surface. He forced it back however, instead focusing on Sam and resuming his visual examination of his state. From the strange way in which his right arm hung from the shackle, Dean assumed that it was dislocated. Of course that bastard would do everything possible to make his little brother's life hell. The most prominent injury Dean could see was the knife dangerously protruding from his little brother's stomach in an unusual angle, which led Dean to believe it had been twisted. Dean prayed to whoever was up there that his brother had sustained no internal injuries but given his sibling's condition, it would've been a miracle. Sam's leg was also bloody and swollen and Dean had no doubt that there was no way he'd be able to walk out on it. Sam's chest was a display of black and blues with the occasional stream of blood from one of the various gashes that marred the area. For all intensive purposes his brother looked dead, so Dean had never been more grateful for the steady rise and fall of his brother's chest.

"Oh God," Bobby murmured beside him having now come forward to examine John's youngest son. Dean glanced at what his surrogate father was gaping at and felt his blood boil in rage. Barbed wire had been viciously wrapped around his little brother's throat, the wire deep in his flesh and coated in his brother's still flowing blood. Worse of all, was the damn dog tag secured onto it. There was going to be hell to pay for that. Marx was a dead man walking as far as Dean was concerned.

Bobby walked around Sam trying to assess the damage to his back and Dean cringed at the sickening splash of the elder hunter's boots in his little brother's blood, which now coated the ground in a pool. How much blood had his little brother lost? How much longer could he last?

As Bobby recounted the state of Sam's tattered back which had been cruelly whipped, Dean focused on his little brother's shallow breathing willing it to grow stronger. He wanted to reach out and touch his brother, hold him and tell him it would be okay but he had no idea where to touch without hurting his sibling further.

"Dean we need to get him out now!" Bobby urged. "We need to take that damn knife out or it'll do more damage when we move him. Try and get him to respond to you and I'll get bandages to stop the bleeding."

Dean nodded and moved closer to his brother. Cupping his hand gently onto Sam's prone face, Dean started speaking slowly and soothingly to his weak little brother.

"Sammy? Hey, come on kiddo it's me. Sammy?"

Dean kept repeating the same words trying desperately to rouse his injured sibling. Finally the youngest Winchester stirred gently at his touch, unconsciously leaning his head into the safety of his older brothers palm. Dean smiled weakly at the gesture. Even unconscious and in pain Sam continued to seek out his brothers comfort.

"Come on Sammy. You can do it. Open those big eyes of yours. Please little brother, I need you to wake up for me."

Dean's words seemed to get through the drugged haze that was Sam's mind as he tried weakly to open his eyes.

"D'n?" he whispered painfully and the elder Winchester nearly cried in relief.

"Yah," Dean replied softly blinking back the wetness in his eyes. "I'm here little brother. It's going to be okay," the elder promised, caressing his sibling's cheek.

Finally Sam's tired lids drifted open and pain filled, glassy eyes stared back at Dean. A lone tear slide down the younger brother's cheek as he took in the fact that his brother was really and truly here in front of him.

"You-u ca-me." He whimpered weakly, his voice thick with emotion.

"Of course, I came. It's my job remember. Take care of my snot nosed little brother."

"I-i th-oug-ht yo-u'd left me-e," more tears streamed down the young man's face. "I th-oug-ht you-u w-eren't-t com-ing back-k."

Dean's heart clenched painfully. Had he really hurt his little brother so badly that he'd believed that Dean would just abandon him? Leave him behind with this madman?

"Of course I came Sammy. I'll always come for you little brother. Always."

The youngest Winchester nodded weakly and then grimaced as if the simple motion had taken every ounce of his strength. As it was, the only reason his head was still upright was because Dean was holding it up in that position. His little brother desperately needed help now.

Realizing the extreme danger the barbed wire could pose to his younger sibling should it dig deeper into his flesh, Dean decided to cut it off first. Whispering reassuringly to his trembling little brother that he'd be back in a second, Dean raced off to the table which contained Marx's torture equipment, barking at Bobby to hurry it up all the while.

Dean almost threw up as he took in the various weapons coated in Sammy's blood. Who could possibly be vile enough to harm his innocent little brother like this? Dean relished in the chance to tear Marx apart. That sick sonovabitch was going to get what was coming to him. Finding a wire cutter on the table, Dean picked it up and raced back to his little brother who flinched at the sight of the metallic object. Dean cursed himself for being so stupid.

"Easy Sammy, easy," Dean soothed taking his little brother's head in his hand once more. "I'm just going to cut the wire okay?" Dean implored making sure Sam understood his words.

"K," came the weak response.

Dean nodded though his sibling's eyes were once again closed in exhaustion. "This might hurt okay Sammy but I need you to stay quiet. Promise me you'll try to Sammy."

Glassy eyes met his again. "Do it-t."

Dean gently maneuvered his brother's head and tried to snap the wires as painlessly as possible. Getting them out of his brother's mangled flesh was another issue completely however. Sam's face scrunched up in pain as Dean pulled at the stubborn wires that clung to Sammy's torn skin but he did not cry out and Dean felt a surge of pride at his brother's strength.

Dean detected a noise behind him but brushed it off as being Bobby rummaging through his gear, his attention focused only on his hurting brother. It was only when Sammy's eyes reopened and widened in fear that Dean realized the threat.

Putting himself protectively in front of his wounded sibling, Dean gripped his gun and turned, coming face to face with the very ass hole that caused this whole mess, who currently had his gun trained on Bobby.

What Dean didn't expect to see however were said ass hole's two sons, both of which stood off to the side and had guns pointed at his defenseless younger brother thus ensuring that he was completely and affectively screwed.

"Dean, what a pleasure it is to see you again."

* * *

And that's chapter 7. Yes, yes I am a bad person but come on as if I would let them get out of this one that easily.

It may seem like Dean and Bobby weren't as on guard as they should've been but you have to remember even as a trap and whatnot they were only expecting one guy. The fact that they're now out numbered wasn't even going to be a possibility. Also getting caught was necessary to the plot so you'll have to forgive them haha

As always let me know what you think! What are your hopes and dreams for this story? Do you like how the story is coming along so far? These are the questions that keep me awake at night so help me out and leave a little review here and there. Make my day!

Until next time,

-silverwolf3432


	8. Chapter 8: When Time's Up

Hey guys. Have you missed me? I hope so and I hope your ready for the epicness that is chapter 8. Not to toot my own horn or anything haha

Anyways as always I'd like to take the time to thank my lovely reviewers especially those who have been with me since the very beginning. You guys know who you are. Words cannot express how thankful I am for your encouragement and because of that this chapter is dedicated to you.

Enjoy.

Chapter 8: When Time's Up

Dean cursed his bad luck for the thousandth time. Why could they never catch a break? Was it really too much to ask for? Would the delicate balance of space-time really be disrupted if something good happened to a Winchester? Just once could something go right for crying out loud!

Dean forced a sarcastic smile onto his face. "Marx. What are the odds of meeting you here?"

A sadistic smile lit up Marx's face and Sam whimpered in fear behind Dean. The noise was enough to tear the older brother's heart in two. As much as he wanted, no needed, to reassure his sibling that everything would be okay, the elder Winchester didn't dare lose sight of Marx. He didn't dare show his weakness for his little brother though at this point any debate on the subject was moot.

Marx threw down a pair of handcuffs at Bobby and motioned towards an old pipe that jutted out of the stone walls. "Handcuff yourself to that. Try anything funny and I'll break little Sammy's jaw."

The elder hunter shot Dean an apprehensive look, questioning with his eyes if Dean had a way out of this. At the moment however there was nothing either could do, at least not without further endangering Sam.

Reluctantly Bobby obliged and cuffed himself to the wall. Marx himself went to go check Bobby's restraints, purposely leaving two guns trained on Sam to keep Dean in check.

After he was done Marx turned and brought his full attention on Dean. "Sorry, I just wanted to tie up the extra loose end you brought in with you. Now I can focus on you. Please take a seat," Marx smiled motioning towards the chair bolted to the ground. Sam's dried blood coated the restraints and Dean reflexively cringed.

It took a split second for Marx calm façade to completely disintegrate.

"Let's try this again. How about you sit the fuck down in the next two seconds or I'll blow your brother's brains out! Now!"

Panic coursed through Dean's body as he realized the state of Marx's psychosis. He was barking mad. Part of him was screaming at himself to stay close to his brother and protect Sam. To keep the crazy man away from his helpless brother. Unfortunately his rational side told him that if he didn't take a seat in the next couple of seconds his brother would be dead before he had the chance to react. With this acknowledgement he forced himself to the chair.

As soon as Dean had sat down Marx marched over to his limp brother and held the gun over his heart. "Don't move now," he warned with a smile and Dean willed himself not to move as Marx's two sons securely tied him down. Once they were done Dean tested the bonds and was disappointed to find that they wouldn't give. Looking over to Bobby, Dean motioned to his restraints, silently asking him if he could slip them some how. The downcast look on the elder hunters eyes told him he could not. Dean cursed again.

"Well isn't this cozy! It's like a big ol' reunion."

"Cut the crap Marx. You've got me. Now let my brother go."

Marx chuckled. "Oh Dean, I think we both know that little Sammy isn't going to make it out of this."

Dean stiffened. "Listen to me you sick sonovabitch. You let my little brother go right now and maybe I'll won't drag out your death for too long. Maybe I'll decide to be nice and just put a bullet through your brain."

The three men in the room laughed out. Marx sauntered over to the weapons table and grabbed a small blade, twirling it in his hand as he approached Dean like a tiger stalking its prey. "Those are some pretty big threats for someone who's got no way to carry them out," Marx whispered coming in close to Dean's face before pulling back and slashing across Dean's cheek with the blade. Marx raised the blade and stabbed it hard into Dean's right hand as he'd done to Sammy days before.

"N-oo. D-ont-t hu-rt him-m." Sam mumbled weakly and Dean's heart clenched as Marx turned his attention away from him and motioned towards his brother.

Immediately Steven walked up and pistol-whipped his sibling, whose head snapped to the side following a cry of pain.

"Sammy, no!" Dean yelped and struggled harder against his bonds, which were already chafing his skin.

"Right. Now where were we?" Marx asked stepping in his line of sight and effectively blocking his view of Sam.

"Hm how about this? Do you remember when we found Matty? How his kneecap was blown? Blood and bone everywhere? Well I think you should get to see what that feels like," Marx said sadistically before pulling out his gun and pointing it at Dean's kneecap. "They say it's the most painful place to get shot," he added helpfully and Dean steeled himself for the pain.

"No! Sto-op! P-lease!" Sam cried out again and once again Steven hit his brother for his protest.

Dean strained to make eye contact with his little brother. Finally he managed it and shook his head as subtly as possible. It was a desperate act. A plea to his stubborn brother to not interfere as Dean couldn't bear to see him hurt further. However the gesture wasn't as inconspicuous as Dean hoped.

Marx began laughing again. That loud and obnoxious noise yet somehow it was so much more dangerous and threatening now then it ever had been. He pulled away from Dean and the elder Winchester felt his panic rise as he realized what was about to happen. He struggled more violently and joined Bobby in yelling profanities to try and get Marx's attention away from his brother. Marx however would have none of it.

He gripped Sam's head in a powerful bruising grip and smiled at the weak young man.

"You don't want to see your big brother get shot huh Sammy? Well that's all right. You can take the bullet instead," Marx growled before placing the gun on his brother's knee and shooting him point blank.

"NOOOOO!" Dean screamed throwing himself again the restraints that wouldn't budge. His screams however were lost in that of his brother's. Sam cried out in agony as pain ripped through his body, fresh tears pouring down his cheeks. Sam's breathing hitched becoming more labored as he tried to fight through his anguish.

Finally the youngest Winchester caught his bearings and turned towards Dean. "I'mm ok-ay," he whispered trying to get his brother to calm down - the fact that Sam couldn't even keep his head up was anything but reassuring. Yet here he was relaying to Dean that he could take it. Either way he shouldn't have to take it! This was Dean's mess and it seemed no matter what he did Sam always paid the price. If they got out of here Dean was going to beat some sense into his sibling for offering himself up like that. If they got out of here….no when, when they got out of here Dean corrected himself. He would get his brother out of this. Protect Sammy. That was his job as a big brother and while he'd done a pretty crap job thus far he was ready to fix it.

Steven laughed out somewhere to the right. "He's alright dad. Maybe you're loosing your luster."

Marx chuckled as well before being seemingly hit with a revelation. "I have an idea!" he proclaimed, eyes crazed and sinister. "Why don't we play a game to see just how okay you are Sammy?"

He motioned towards Jason and the younger hunter fetched something from the far wall of the room beyond Dean's view. As soon as he laid eyes on the object however he couldn't suppress the stream of profanities that spilled out of his mouth, barely noticing Bobby's curses in the background as well.

"Will you two shut up!" Marx roared turning towards them. Dean allowed his heart to flourish with hope; if they could keep Marx's attention on themselves perhaps he'd leave Sammy alone. His hope was squashed however as Marx merely commanded his two sons to gag the seasoned hunters. Not that Dean made that easy for he bit Steven in spite. This earned him a hard blow to the head that left him dazed for a moment.

"There much better," Marx smiled. "Now I can hear myself think."

Dean tried to call out a witty response but the tape around his mouth stifled his words.

Marx grabbed Sammy's head roughly and forced it back up to meet his gaze, though the younger man could barely keep his eyes open much less focus on the killer in front of him. With his other hand, Marx finally received the object Jason had gone to retrieve. A cattle prod.

"Now here's how our little game is going to work Sammy. You see this here? It's a cattle prod and I've even modified it just for you. Upped the voltage and what not. You can really feel the rush that way. Anyways since you're okay like you just told big brother over there all I want you to do is keep your head up. You manage that and it's all good. I wont hurt any of you. But drop your head Sammy and I get to have my fun. Each time you fail, the electrocution will be longer then the last. Sounds like a hoot huh?" Marx finished gleefully.

"Go-o to h-ell" Sammy managed to snap weakly.

Dean fought like a wild animal to free himself from his bonds. He knew the kind of state Sammy was in and clearly Marx knew the kid wouldn't be able to keep his head up too. Dean would be damned if he sat idly by and watched his brother's pain. The bonds held strong however and Dean only managed to cause his wrists to bleed by the time Marx had started his little game.

Dean's eyes frantically met his little brother's. He tried desperately to convey with his eyes the words he couldn't say. Trying to offer his brother some strength through his presence. Dean couldn't help the pride he felt as Sam fought to keep his head from falling but ultimately he knew it was a losing battle. Sam's body was already beginning to tremble and beads of sweat were forming from the strain of performing the simple task. It was all just a grim reminder of just how bad his little brother's condition was and of just how much Dean had failed him. Yet for some reason the damn kid's eyes were still adoring and hopeful every time they met Dean's. As if he was the greatest thing he'd ever seen. As if Dean was the only thing keeping him breathing at this point. That thought scared him more then he cared to admit.

Sam lasted for longer then Dean could've ever hoped and he was immensely proud of the strength of character his little brother portrayed. Sam's eyes as he looked over to his brother before he failed showed the opposite however. He was disappointed. Not in his elder brother but in himself for not meeting what he considered to be Dean's expectations. Dean wished he could tell his little brother he was being ridiculous but there was no way to do so.

"I'm-m sor-ry," Sam whimpered out before his head dropped against his chest in exhaustion.

Not a moment later, Marx had jammed the prod into Sam's side and the youngest Winchester cried out in shock and pain.

This went on for what could've been hours. At least that's what it felt like to Dean. Each time Sam was shocked, the prod stayed in place longer managing to actually burn the younger sibling's flesh. At the same time his brother grew weaker with each attack, his strength diminishing to the point that he could no longer lift his head at all. When that happened, Marx grabbed a power hose and cruelly drenched his shivering brother from head to toe before shocking him with the prod again. The water acted as a conductor, making the electrocution more painful for his ailing sibling. Dean could only sit and watch, as his brother was tortured, his cries becoming more guttural and inhuman until finally they stopped coming all together. Dean assumed that his sibling had screamed himself hoarse probably even damaged his vocal cords in the process.

Dean had never hated himself more. He could do nothing. Absolutely nothing to stop his brother's endless pain. No matter how long he cursed or screamed behind the gag, Marx continued to ignore him. The man simply stood laughing and hollering with his two sons at Sammy's pain and Dean vowed then and there for the thousandth time to end these men that had dared to touch his innocent brother. Dean growled as the bonds still do not give way, tears of desperation trailing down his face as he broke.

Finally Sam's body stopped reacting to the continued shock other then the occasional twitch of a muscle and a few moans of pain when the electricity hit. As terrifying as it was that his brother was no longer reacting, Dean was at least thankful that the shocks had stopped. He was already fearful of the affects the electrocution would have on Sam's body knowing through first hand experience the affects it could have.

Turning his head towards Bobby, Dean noticed that the elder hunter was scrambling to undo the screws on the lower area of the pipe in order to slip his shackled wrists through. Dean thanked his lucky stars that the older man was here. Once he got loose, the guns were within range. If Dean could get free and if they acted fast enough it would be possible to gain control of the situation again. For now Dean would just have to offer the older man the distraction he needed until then and if possible keep Marx away from his little brother as well.

Marx however seemed to have other plans.

"I'm done with him," he began acting like Sam was an old toy he could simply throw away now that he was bored. "I think it's time to end this."

_NO._

_NONONONONONO! SONAVABITCH NO THIS WAS NOT HAPPENING!_

Absolute horror was clutching at Dean's chest and he bucked and struggled as hard as he could. There was no way in hell that this bastard was killing Sammy. They were so close! Bobby was almost free. No dammit this was not about to happen! He struggled harder and grunted through the gag. If he could get Marx's attention it would only take a few more seconds. That's all he needed!

Thankfully the cosmos granted Dean Winchester this one small favor and Marx halted his sons and turned back to Dean.

"What's wrong there Dean? Got some final words for little brother? Well since I'm feeling so incredibly generous I'll let you say them."

As soon as the tape was off Dean threw himself into a threatening rant.

"Listen to me you disgusting piece of shit. You get away from my little brother right now. You touch him again and I swear I will cut your fingers off and feed them back to you, you bastard! Do you hear me? I will kill you, but before I do I'm going to kill your kids so you can see them die before I end your pathetic life."

Marx laughed, dark and sinister. Dean's words had fallen on deaf ears.

"Oh Dean, you're going to regret that. You're going to wish you'd have taken the moment to say bye to your little brother cause now you're going to have to live the rest of your life knowing that those were the words that got Sam here killed."

Dean froze in panic as Marx turned around towards his two boys, and handed the eldest Dean's own gun.

"Take little Sammy outside and shoot him like the dog he is."

* * *

Muahaha! Am I the cliffy queen or what? I know I'm a tease. It's been said haha

If you want the next chapter up sooner remember the three R's: Review, Review, and Review!

Until next time,

-silverwolf3432


	9. Chapter 9: Out of the Frying Pan

Hey guys! Long time long time. Excited to see you all again and loving the feedback from last chapter so I hope you guys feel the same about this one.

I think I should start mentioning right now that my medical knowledge ranges somewhere between zero and negative two so we're all just gonna have to pretend like what I'm saying is possible/true and live with that haha

Anyways on with the story!

Chapter 9: Out of the Frying Pan

"SAAAAAAAM"

Dean's world was a blur. It was oddly quiet yet oppressively loud all at once and nothing quite made sense at this point. Everything he knew was crumbling around him and he was floundering.

He barely recognized his own screams, repeating his brother's name over and over again. He could barely feel the ropes cutting deeper and deeper into his flesh as he struggled. His hand was numb. The small blade sticking out of it could've been a paper cut for all he knew.

Dean was seeing red. His body quivering in barely controlled rage and fear.

Marx stood off to the side laughing. His eyes sparkling with joy at the prospect of Dean's suffering. At the prospect of watching Sam be butchered.

Marx's sons had now moved in to grab his brother and Dean bucked more violently; his wrist growing slicker with blood and screams intensifying by the second. Steven found it amusing. The bastard decided to unlock only one of the chains holding his barely conscious sibling up. He wanted to watch Sam suffer some more before he was taken outside and slaughtered like an animal. So now the youngest Winchester was awkwardly dangling from his dislocated shoulder, his body listing to the side and forcing all of Sam's weight on the injured limb. His brother still wasn't reacted.

It was when Marx's bastard children made a move for a hacksaw, commenting on how much more fun it would be to sever Sam's still bound arm then to simply let it loose that Dean snapped.

Using all his strength and the slickness of his own blood against the rope restraints, Dean pulled his right arm out from under its binding, tearing apart more flesh and most likely dislocating his wrist. With his right arm free, the elder Winchester gripped the small blade protruding from his left hand and yanked it out, cutting away the other bindings in seconds.

From behind him, Dean could make out the sound of Jason's grunt of pain and once again he praised the world for Bobby Singer. With the threat of one of the armed men out of the way, Dean lunged at Steven who was already turning in a last ditch attempt to kill Sam. Like hell.

Dean's tackle sends them both to the ground where he manages to wrestle the gun from the lean hunter's grip. Working solely on instincts, Dean barely realizes when the small blade that had been imbedded in his hand only seconds ago leaves his white knuckled grip and is inserted into the young man's eye. Steven screams out and struggles to staunch the bloody mess that has now become face. Dean strikes him hard in the face again and Steven stills, his body going limp as the knife undoubtedly went through his skull.

Marx is dashing towards his little brother in seconds, trying to regain control by endangering his sibling once more. The man was truly a bigger idiot then Dean had thought. You don't point a fucking knife or gun or any other unauthorized object at Sam Winchester unless you want to die.

Dean shot instinctually hitting his mark, Marx's kneecap, perfectly and sending the older man flying to the floor.

Dean was on him in an instant. His drew his fists back and hit again and again and again at every part he could reach. He shoved his knee into the man's chest, and felt Marx's ribs start to snap one by one. The rage consumed him and Marx's weak protests did nothing to deter him. Gripping Marx's head hard in his hands, he slammed it repeatedly against the cold stone floor relishing in the ever-growing pool of blood that formed under him. This sonovabitch was going to get what's coming to him and he was going to get it right now!

It was strong arms wrapping around his shoulders and dragging him back that finally stopped his vicious assault.

"Let me go! Dammit Bobby let me go! I have to kill him!" Dean growled in rage.

Bobby didn't let go however and instead stood in front of Dean holding him back as he thrashed about and trying to get through to him. He'd have none of the however. Not as long as he could still see the rise and fall of that bastard's chest.

A hard slap to the face brought him back to the present.

"Dammit Dean I get it. You're pissed, but this isn't the time for that. Your brother needs you. Sam needs you and this isn't helping him you idgit!"

Bobby's hands were on either of Dean's shoulders holding the boy as he let out his last puffing breathes of anger. He nodded to Bobby showing that he had composed himself before turning back to look at his brother.

"God Sammy," Dean yelped and ran to his sibling's side, instantly ashamed that he'd been angry enough to ignore his ailing brother.

His brother was still hanging awkwardly by his dislocated shoulder, his head slumped against his chest and his knees now barely scraped the ground. Dean winced in sympathy before positioning himself carefully, throwing his brother's uninjured arm over his head and then looping his arm around Sam's bloody back in an attempt to bear his brother's weight and keep it off the injured ligament. Sam let out a pained breath at the motion and then let his head fall weakly against Dean's shoulder.

"I gotcha Sammy. It's okay little brother. It's all going to be okay now," Dean whispered into Sam's chestnut hair in comfort.

Sam only nodded weakly into his older brother's shoulder, feeling tired and drained.

"They're dead," Bobby said motioning towards both of Marx's sons when Dean looked up. "Marx is still alive though."

Dean felt his hatred for Marx's worsen if that was even possible, at the small sound Sam made at the mention of the man's name. It was a quiet whimper yet so much more vulnerable and Dean felt his body tremble in unadulterated rage. No one hurt his brother like that. No one should make him feel that way.

"Tie him up," Dean growled nodding towards the chair that had previously been used to tie him and his brother down. "We'll take care of him later. And find the key to these shackles Bobby." Then noticing how his sibling's eyes were already drooping in exhaustion added a hasty, "Hurry," to the statement.

Once Bobby secured a still unconscious Marx, he returned with the shackle keys and some gauze and large bandages.

"We need to get that knife out. It's a risk to take it out but I'm afraid he'll sustain worse injuries if it moves inside of him when we try to get him down."

Dean nodded solemnly and then positioned himself even closer to Sam, gently lifting his brother's face from his shoulder and caressing it gently to get his sibling to open his eyes.

"Sammy listen to me. I'm going to have to pull that knife out okay? It's going to hurt a lot but I need you to hold still. Okay little brother? We have to do this."

Sam nodded gently against his hand and wincing at the pain that shot through him at the simple motion.

"It-s o-okay D'n..I trust you-u," Sam breathed out and Dean's heart broke. Sam's big expressive eyes, though clouded with pain, still looked at him like he was his hero. Like he was the greatest most important person in his life. Even after everything that happened, Sam still trusted him. How his baby brother could even look at him with such unadulterated faith and love, after this whole mess had been entirely his fault, was beyond him. He'd pushed his brother right into harms way and yet somehow his brother found it in him to forgive Dean without a thought.

Dean pulled Sammy in a little closer feeling the need to be physically closer to his sibling. To try and comfort and calm him as best he could as Bobby's fingers wrapped around the hilt of the knife.

"Ready? On three," the elder hunter coached Sam. "One, two, three!"

With that Bobby pulled the knife out and Sam's face scrunched up in utter pain. His muscles clenched and his jaw locked as he closed his eyes tightly and tried to ride out the pain. Bobby had already set to work wrapping the wound as best he could in heavy bandages though some of the blood was already beginning to seep through.

"Easy now Sammy. It's okay. It's over now. I gotcha," Dean whispered reassuringly as a few tears slid down Sam's face. Seeing his kid in so much pain was driving Dean crazy. He just wanted to get his sibling up and out of the bleak cellar that smelled of blood. His brother's blood.

"Get the shackles Bobby. I got him," Dean ordered to the hunter who obliged as gently as possible. He opened the shackle gently and Sam's bleeding wrist was freed as Dean gently lowered his pained brother to the ground, pulling him against his chest while Bobby worked on the shackles at Sam's feet. Dean fought back the bile in his throat as he took in the sight of Sam's wrists and ankles. The kid's wrists were torn apart and Dean felt sick when he realized how hard his sibling had fought to try and get away. His little brother had been struggling and scared and Dean hadn't been there for him. He couldn't help but hate himself more.

"I should wrap his wrists," Bobby said somberly. "I also have to do something about his leg."

Dean nodded at the older hunter. He trusted Bobby to know what he was doing, and for now all he could focus on was Sam. He gently drew Sammy in closer, wrapping his arms carefully around him while trying not to irritate any wounds, though with Sam's state it was impossible. His younger sibling didn't seem to mind however and Dean could feel Sam's body relax immediately and settle into his arms. Dean couldn't help but smile at his brother's unconscious actions and he began to stroke Sammy's hair mumbling incoherent things to comfort him.

Once Bobby was finished he packed away the supplies and nodded at Dean, standing near by to help when he got Sam to his feet.

Dean knew they had to move but his heart broke at the thought of putting Sam through the pain of the walk upstairs and to the Impala. Knowing it had to be done, Dean shifted carefully out from under his younger sibling, his heart melting at the weak sound of protest Sammy made at being released from his grip.

"Come on Sammy. You don't want to lie out here on the floor all night do you?" Dean tried to joke.

"D'n I-I do-n't think-k I ca-n g-et up," Sam whimpered out and Dean felt his body go cold. Sam never ever admitted to pain or weakness. The kid was the epitome of stubborn and tended to at least try to do things on his own even when he'd been injured and they both knew he would need help. The fact that his brother was showing weakness told Dean volumes and he felt his heart clench in fear again. Damn this kid was trying to kill him.

"Sure you can Sammy. Well do it together, all right. I'll be right here with you the whole time. " Dean said as confidently as possible. He only hoped that Sam hadn't detected the slight quiver of his voice.

"O-kay"

Dean tried to be gentle with Sam's back but it was almost impossible with all the injuries it had obtained. When he moved his hand up to better support his brother's back Sam cried out weakly, the sound more like that of a wounded puppy.

"Sorry Sammy," Dean murmured before gently pulling his brother to his feet.

Sam swayed unsteadily as he tried to stand, bile rising in his throat at the sudden change of height and his vision blackening dangerously around the edges. His legs finally buckled and had it not been for Dean supporting him, he would've gone crashing to the floor again.

"Whoa! Hey, hey I gotcha kid." Dean said as he took on his brother's full weight while Bobby positioned himself to support his other side.

Sam tried to stifle his moans of pain as both hunters basically dragged him out of the cellar pausing momentarily to shut the large vault door and allow him to catch his breath. Dean spoke reassuringly into his ear the whole time, urging him forwards when he swore he couldn't take another step and keeping him upright the whole time. Sam had never been more appreciative of his brother's support.

By the time they finally made it to the front of the old house, Sam was panting in sheer exhaustion, his breaths coming out short and labored. Bobby left Sam in Dean's care as he rushed out to the Impala, coming to bring it as close to the front of the house as possible. With the way Sam was swaying Bobby didn't want to overexert the kid further.

Dean couldn't help the fear that crept into his very core. While the light was fading fast it was enough to see and now that he could see Sam in the light…it didn't look good. His brother was covered in a sheen of sweat and his body was trembling in exhaustion.

"D'n," his little brother suddenly moaned out and it was all the warning he could get before Sam collapsed beside him. Dean yelped in surprise at the sudden weight, after all Sam wasn't exactly small, but he managed to ease his now unconscious sibling onto the floor. Dean cursed. This was not good.

Bobby was back by his side in a moment and together they hefted Sam's unconscious form into the backseat, Dean sliding in with him and placing his brother's head in his lap.

"We need to get him to a hospital now!" Dean demanded as soon as Bobby slid into the Impala's front.

"Dean you know we cant take him to a hospital. They'll ask too man questions."

"Then what do you suggest we do! Look at him Bobby he needs medical attention!"

"You don't think I know that! Look I know a guy. He's a good doctor and I helped him out on a hunt way back. He owns his own clinic nowadays. He can help and he owes me one. Just let me give him a call to let him know we're coming he can clear the place out."

"Oh..yah all right. Sorry," Dean said gently as he carded his hang through Sammy's long hair. His little brother still looked so distressed even unconscious and it worried him.

Sam started to tremble slightly and Dean froze before trying once again to wake him, this time with considerably better results. Sam opened his glassy eyes at half-mast, his gaze unfocused, until he finally found his elder brother.

"Sammy. Hey kid what's wrong?" Dean asked immersed in bitter irony of the question. At this point what wasn't wrong with his baby brother. He was bleeding out in the back seat of the Impala for crying out loud.

"D'nn…s'..so-oo c-ool-d"

Dean cursed. He pulled his jacket off automatically, pissed at himself for not having done it earlier and tucked it around his shivering sibling. He wished he could attempt to rub some warmth into his brother's arms but with the cuts, bruises, and burns it would only hurt his Sam more.

"D'nn," Sam groaned miserably again before he broke off into a coughing fit, his skin turning an even whiter pallor. When the fit finally ended his little brother dropped brokenly back into unconsciousness, but not before the small trickle of blood started to seep out of the injured Winchester's mouth.

* * *

Woo Chapter 9!

So hey I got some bad news….now don't kill me everyone buuuuut I'm kinda leaving on vacation on Monday and won't be getting back until early August… Yah I know it sucks but honestly I couldn't rush the story. You'll have to wait a bit but you'll get a better story in the end. Right now it doesn't look like I'll be able to update again before I leave but hey anything can happen. Maybe you guys send me such inspirational reviews that I manage to pull one last chapter out before I leave. No promises though. Thanks for your patience.

As always reviews make the world go round!

Until next time,

-silverwolf3432


	10. Chapter 10: And into the Fire

Hey everybody! It's been quite a while! My vacation was great if anyone cares to know haha and I recently started watching the new show Under the Dome. Its great and in case you don't know Colin Ford plays one of the main characters aka teenage Sam and its just so good. So you might wanna consider checking it out.

Anyways back to relevant things haha here's chapter ten. It's been a while since I've written so excuse any mistakes. Lets also take this moment to remember the fact that I have absolutely no medical knowledge so lets all use our imagination and pretend what I'm saying is possible haha.

Also you guys get the special treat of a pretty long chapter. You've been warned right here and right now that I will leave you with a cliffy. Sorry but its got to be done. I love me my cliffys. Well enough delay, on with the story!

Chapter 10: And into the Fire

"Shit Bobby go faster!"

"You don't think I'm going as fast as possible you idjit!" Bobby yelled back from behind the wheel.

"Not fast enough!" Dean spit back before turning his attention on his ailing younger brother who was still losing color quickly.

"God Sammy I'm so sorry," Dean, whispered to his little brother while gently carding his hand through Sammy's hair in an attempt to reassure himself more then anything. He could hear Bobby in the front now talking to his doctor friend and he was sure that he was explaining the urgent situation but Dean wasn't really paying attention. His whole focus was held by the slow rise and fall of Sam's chest and the fact that it needed to stay that way.

Dean couldn't say how long that car ride lasted for but it seemed like an eternity. The whole time Dean had been fruitlessly trying to wake Sam up to no avail and it was scaring the crap out of him. No matter how badly Sam was hurt Dean had always been able to rouse him even when his father could not. Sam always responded to him. Always! And the fact his little brother wasn't even moving with Dean practically begging at his side was not reassuring in the least.

Trying to stop the slow building terror from drowning him, Dean decided to focus on stopping the still sluggish flow of blood protruding from Sam's multiple injuries. The stab wound to his chest was the most worrisome injury at the moment, that and Sam's shattered kneecap. Dean visibly shuttered. Sam had been crippled. He'd been crippled in order to spare Dean the same injury. Dean could barely keep down the bile. That coupled with the fact that he was currently drenched in his little brother's blood…Dean was barely holding it together. Knowing that Sam needed him however, Dean forced his shacking hands to keep pressure on the wound.

"We're almost there Dean. How is he?"

"Not good Bobby," Dean breathed out before palming his sibling's forehead. "He's getting hotter, I think his fever is getting worse."

"Balls! Infection must be setting in if it hasn't already."

Dean cursed and looked down at his ailing sibling. Sam was as white as a sheet, trembling weakly in his elder brothers arms. Sure enough sweat was dripping down his neck and back as his internal body heat soared higher.

Dean was about to comment on the need to cool Sam down when the Impala's tires screeched as Bobby peeled into the clinic parking lot at top speed, bring the car to a stop right at the front door where a man in scrubs and nurse stood waiting for them with a stretcher.

Bobby threw open the driver's side door and rushed to the back, pausing in shock at the sight of Sam who looked worse then he'd thought possible. The doctor pushed passed the elder hunter to get a look at his new patient and gasped for a moment before composing himself.

"We need to get him inside now," the man commanded and Dean forced his body into motion.

They hauled his unresponsive brother out of the Impala and onto the stretcher before rushing him into the clinic. The doctor bombarded Dean with a variety of questions on Sam's medical information before finally reaching the surgical room, which had been modified for the emergency call. Once they transferred Sam to the table, the doctor barked at his assistant to set up the machines.

"I see that you two are quite distraught," the doctor began turning his attention on the two hunters, "but I'm going to need you both to focus. I need to know what injuries he's sustained."

"We weren't with him the whole time," Dean began regretfully.

"The worst injuries appear to be the stab wound to his chest and the gunshot to his knee and thigh. We couldn't take the bullet out of his knee." Bobby continued.

The doctor nodded thoughtfully before glancing around at the monitors the nurse had just set up.

"Anything else I should know?" the doctor nodded while unwrapping the makeshift bandages Bobby had placed around Sam's knee. The sight of bone had Dean reeling.

Bobby was about to answer when the nurse cried out, "BP is low and dropping fast."

Sam's heart monitor suddenly erupted in sound as he flatlined.

"Shit," the doctor yelled before spinning back around towards Sam and yelling at Clara the nurse but Dean could barely understand what he was saying. He was running at his brother screaming though he couldn't hear the sound until Bobby restrained him and pulled back.

"Get him out now!" the doctor demanded as Dean was dragged from the small room, the door slamming in front of him.

"No! Bobby let me go! Bobby!" Dean cried out before dropping to his knees sobs racking his body.

"Dean!" Bobby shouted in alarm as he dropped down beside the elder brother. "Balls! Dean look at me. You're hyperventilating and you'll pass out if you don't breath dammit."

Bobby gently coached the elder Winchester into breathing as he'd seen Dean do for Sam countless times, before moving him up and to a chair a few feet away.

"Hey come on kid. You know Sam, you think that boy's going to stop fighting. He'll pull through just like he always does."

Green orbs glanced up at him through unshed tears. The look of earth shattering despair had the hunter reeling and he pulled the normally stoic brother to his chest hugging him tightly.

"I can't lose him Bobby. I just can't," Dean whimpered weakly into the gruff hunter's shirt.

"I know Dean. I know. Now come on, lets go get you cleaned up."

When Dr. Johnson finally stepped out of the room, the first light of morning had started to shine through the waiting room windows. The doctor's tired eyes sought out the only other two inhabitants of the clinic at this early hour. In an instant both hunters were up and bombarding him with questions so quickly it made him dizzy. He held up his hands in a slow down motion before he sucked in a breath and began.

"Okay let me start by saying that Sam has been stabilized. He's fine and he's now resting in his room."

Dr. Johnson paused a moment to allow the hunters to breathe in a sigh of relief before continuing, "Now as for the injuries he sustained, well that's another issue."

Dean blanched noticeably before hesitantly asking, "How bad is it?"

"In layman's terms please," Bobby added.

"Why don't we sit down," the doctor responded and both hunters slowly took a seat.

"Well for one considering the trauma Sam went through he got out relatively well. For one he had a mild concussion but as far as I can tell it will cause no permanent damage. He was severely beaten and I did find some cracked ribs but thankfully no full breaks which is incredible considering. Of course there were multiple abrasions and cuts to his body especially on his back where he was struck with what appears to have been a whip based on the way the injuries were patterned my best guess is that it was a cat," the doctor paused a moment to view his friend and patient's brothers reaction before continuing. "Now some of the bigger cuts did require stitches and a few of the worst ones did develop slight infection. There were also a few burns on his body but nothing to serious. They should heal just fine. Are you okay for me to keep going?"

Bobby looked up from his hands, where his gaze had rested since the doctor began. After checking over Dean who gave him a slight nod Bobby motioned for Dr. Johnson to continue.

Johnson nodded and began again. "Now for the most serious of his injuries. Sam had a severe stab wound to his side and it went in fairly deep. I cannot stress how incredibly lucky your brother was that the knife didn't hit any internal organs most likely due to the fact that the men who did this knew what they were doing and were seeking to cause pain and not death. I did give him a tetanus shot just incase and unfortunately this wound was pretty badly infected but he's currently being given antibiotics to combat it. Sam also sustained two gunshot wounds. The first to his leg thankfully was only a graze but the other injury was very serious. The bullet shattered Sam's kneecap. This did require surgery, which went pretty smoothly all things considering. I put the broken bones back together with pins and screws and had to remove some of the bone fragments, which were too small to be fixed. The knee is now casted but with physical therapy and time to heal I'm confident Sam will regain the ability to walk. He will of course need to be off his feet for quite a while."

Dean smiled through misty eyes, "That's great."

Dr. Johnson nodded. "Now the most pressing issue we experienced was the blood loss. You're brother lost a lot of blood, which caused him to go into shock. I have an IV set up to try and replace the lost blood."

Dean nodded then looked up at the doctor. "There's something else isn't there?"

Johnson nodded solemnly before addressing the question. "We did lose your brother on the table for about a minute, but of course we were able to bring him back and he's perfectly fine now."

Dean froze. "Oh God…he was dead. He died and it was my fault," Dean yelped voice dripping in grief.

"Now come on boy, you did everything you could. Hell Dean if it weren't for you Sammy wouldn't have made it. You saved him."

Dean nodded but Bobby could tell that the elder Winchester didn't quite believe him. "Can I please go see my brother now?" Dean pleaded gently and Dr. Johnson nodded motioning for the two men to follow.

"Right this way."

Dr. Johnson led the two men down a hall and into a small single room. Clara stood of to the side, checking an IV drip but both hunters' eyes were immediately drawn towards their youngest. Sam's prone form lie on the bed. Various IV's and machines were hooked up to his little brother and white bandage was wrapped around Sam's various injuries. His casted knee propped up at his side.

"Sammy," Dean whispered before rushing to his siblings side and taking his hand, Bobby following close behind and placing his hand on Sam's good leg.

"Thank you Clara," the doctor breathed in dismissal and the two men watched as the young girl left and Johnson closed the door behind her.

The doctor turned and looked towards Bobby, "Now Bobby I have to ask, the man who did this.."

"He's still out there. Restrained but alive." Dean nodded his other hand now gently carding through his sibling's hair.

The young doctor nodded thoughtfully. "Do what you have to do," he said suddenly, "you wont see me reaching for the phone to call the cops. Do what you think it best."

"Thank you Johnson, honestly. I don't know what we would've done without your help," Bobby answered.

"Anytime Bobby. Ill give you two some privacy," he said before taking his leave.

Bobby watched the doctor go before turning back to the two Winchester boys. His eyes roamed over the younger man who lay pale and unmoving on the bed and the old hunter felt a pang in his heart. He'd always had a soft spot for Sam. There was simply no one like him. How he could still wake up in the morning and flash you that dimpled, megawatt smile after the horrors of their job was beyond him but he cherished it beyond comprehension.

The fact that Sam's crazed attacker was still out there however forced the small smile off his face.

"Dean," he called waiting for his attention to turn from Sam and onto him, "I think I should just go end this. It doesn't sit well..that bastard still being alive. I should just go back and put the bastard down, take care of the body while I'm at it."

"Bobby it could be dangerous..."

"While I'm touched by your concern," Bobby answered sarcastically, "it's more dangerous leaving him there. I'll be fine kid and if I run into some trouble I'll give you a call."

Dean moved to argue but the fact that the Marx was still alive didn't quite sit well with him either. Though he wanted to be the one to make the kill he knew staying with Sammy was more important.

"Alright," Dean resigned. "But one word Bobby and I'm there."

"Yes of course mother," Bobby snorted before walking towards the door, giving the two brother's one last glance, and taking his leave.

Next Day

The next morning, Dean was roused from his light sleep. He hadn't even realized he'd drifted. He'd only meant to rest for a few seconds, but clearly his tired body had other ideas. The elder hunter groaned and tried to work out the kinks in his back and neck, which came from sleeping hunched over his younger sibling. It was then that Dean noticed the minute movement of Sam's fingers. Suddenly awake in an instant, the elder Winchester jumped into action.

He grasped his sibling's hand gently and rubbed comforting circles on the back of Sam's palm.

"Hey Sammy. Come on sleeping beauty I need you to wake up now," Dean whispered as he cupped Sam's cheek with his hand, smiling gently when his little brother leaned into his hand.

"That's it Sammy. Come on, you can do it."

Sam moaned weakly before his eyes opened warily.

Dean smiled brightly. "Hey Sammy."

Sam's bright eyes focused on his brother and a small smile stretched his lips.

"D'n"

"Well good morning to you too. Except it's almost noon…but you know being the awesome brother I am, I'm not even going to hound you about sleeping in."

Sam let out a small tired laugh, "You're a saint Dean."

"Well I don't know about that…" Dean trailed off delighted when it caused his little brother to laugh again. The moment was over when Sam was pulled into a coughing fit, wincing as the movement hurt his aching body.

"Easy there Sammy," Dean soothed carefully adjusting his brother in an upright position while rubbing circles into his back. "Here drink," Dean ordered passing his brother a cold glass of water and holding it up for him.

"Thanks," Sam responded breathlessly and Dean panicked slightly at how winded and weak his little brother was. "Where are we?"

"A clinic," then seeing the panic in his sibling's eyes, "hey, the doc owes Bobby. They go way back. We'll be ok here."

Sam nodded calming at his brother's words. "Where's Bobby?"

"He had to go take care of some things."

"Marx," Sam whispered fear alight in his eyes again and Dean cursed the sonovabitch for what could've been the millionth time.

"Yah, but don't you worry Sammy. Everything's okay now. He can't hurt you again. I promise."

"I believe you Dean," Sam stated sincerely and Dean marveled once more at the trust his younger brother had in him, even after everything.

"How are you feeling Sammy? No bullshit okay."

Sam sank back into the pillows and brought his tired eyes up to his brother's face, Dean almost cried at the misery he saw in their depths.

"Honestly, I've been better."

"Yah well I don't think you'll be going anywhere for a while Sasquatch"

Sam laughed lightly again and Dean smiled, reaching out to gently grasp his brother's arm before steeling himself. He'd said and done things to Sam that he regretted and they'd put his sibling in danger. It was time to own up.

"Listen Sammy, I…"

The shrill ringing of a cell phone interrupted Dean's words. He made to continue but the sound of the phone buzzing again stopped him.

"You should check that. It could be Bobby," Sam prodded.

Dean nodded then reached for his phone to check his texts. The two new messages read:

Dean, get over here quick. There's something you've got to see.

Dean please this is serious! I need you.

Dean cursed lightly.

"That Bobby?"

"Yah," Dean answered, "say's there's something important I should go see."

"Then you should go Dean. You know how Bobby is. He wouldn't bother sending for you if it wasn't necessary."

Dean's eyes searched Sam's instantly, "But I don't want to leave you."

Sam smiled gently, "And I don't want you to go but this could be important. Something might have happened. Plus I'll probably just sleep the entire time."

"I don't know Sammy…"

"I'll be alright Dean. Just come back soon okay?"

Dean smiled fondly at his younger sibling before running his fingers through Sam's long unruly locks. "Sure thing. I'll go get the nurse to give you something for the pain. See you soon bitch."

"Later jerk."

Dean walked out of Sam's private room a genuine smile on his face for the first time in a long time. Catching Clara down the hall he informed her of his brother's awakening and asked her to please give him something to help him sleep while he stepped out for a moment. He assured her that he'd be back before night when Dr. Johnson would return to check on his sibling and implored that she keep an eye on Sam while he was gone.

The young blonde nodded before rushing off to tend to his brother and Dean felt himself relax slightly with the knowledge was in good hands.

Walking towards the Impala, Dean's heart ached at the thought of leaving Sam alone even if just for a moment. Knowing it had to be done Dean pulled out of the parking lot vowing to finish this quickly and return to his little brother and then take a much needed vacation. Maybe even go see the Grand Canyon.

When Sam regained consciousness several hours later he was swimming in a sea of black. He floated merrily enjoying the numbness of it all and the freedom from the pain. All in all, good drugs. The shuffling overhead brought Sam out of his bubble. Wanting to see his elder brother and perhaps Bobby, he pushed threw the darkness and into the light.

Sam opened his sensitive eyes to slits, just barely making out a blurry figure overhead. Figuring it was probably Dean, the youngest Winchester allowed himself a moment more to relax and get his bearing, and he shut his eyes once more. That is until he felt the chill creep up his spine. His acute hunting senses were telling him that something was very, very wrong. He always felt safe with Dean no matter what...so this wasn't Dean!

His eyes flew open once more and he desperately blinked back the blurriness, horrified when it was none other then Marx standing at the foot of his bed dressed as a hospital orderly. Sam tried to scream out for anyone but Marx's large hand came down to cover his mouth as Sam's eyes frantically searched for a way out. He was dismayed to notice that the shades were drawn, the door was closed, and Marx was standing in a way that blocked his access to the phone and emergency button. Realizing he was in this alone, Sam fought with all he had to remove Marx's hand but he was just too weak.

Marx chuckled merrily at him and pulled a syringe out of his scrub pocket and prepared to insert it into his IV.

"Don't worry Sammy," Marx cooed as he depressed the plunger, "It'll all be over soon."

And with that Sam Winchester dropped back into the darkness.

Bam Chapter 10! Was that not the longest chapter everrrrrrr! Well don't get use to it hahaha that was just my special treat for making you wait. I had to leave you with a cliffy of course because well it's my thing. No hard feelings hahaha

Anyways I still have to get my stuff together, pretty busy and what not but I promise this story will not be abandoned.

When in doubt, REVIEW!

Until next time,

-silverwolf3432


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